Stranded
by SilasWhitfield
Summary: A hardened mercenary comes to Pandora to put another mark on his resume. When the Humans are forced out he is stranded, in more ways than one. Multiple original characters. Some language and graphic violence, you have been warned. Last chapter posted.
1. Chapter 1

_**First fanfiction. Caught the Avatar bug and had a spark of creativity. This is it fleshed out. Please review, comment, etc.**_

Ray's stomach dropped out from inside his chest as the Valkyrie began interacting with Pandora's local gravity. It was refreshing to feel some force pulling him to earth after a rough ride in cryo. A young staff sergeant exited the cockpit door and stood at attention. The marines around him gawked for a second and then quickly stood and saluted a full bird Colonel who had just exited the door behind the sergeant. The man was not particularly tall, but he radiated a fierce determination that demanded respect. A trio of thin ropy scars wound their way up the right side of his face. He smiled and returned the collective salute.

"At ease".

The Marines on board dropped their salute but remained standing. The mercenaries however kept their seat throughout, Ray included. The United States had cut a deal with the RDA. Fresh Marines in exchange for discounts on the massive stock of goods and services they offered. The Colonel paced a little, then looked up and spoke.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, My name is Miles Quaritch. You will be the third company that has been deployed to this god-forsaken moon in it's history."

Quaritch's eyes swept the slightly anxious crowd of Marines.

"You will not be the first, or the last."

The Colonel continued pacing back and forth.

"Do NOT underestimate this moon. Hell's Gate is as you all know, not yet entirely finished, and we are just breaking ground in the primary mining locations. Everything is up in the air right now, and we have no goddamn clue how this situation as a whole will unfold. Again, you have doubtless been briefed on the natives, but allow me to inject a bit of my own advice: They do not appreciate our presence. They may be primitive, but they are deadly. Likewise, the local flora and fauna are incredibly hostile, and you will encounter threats the likes of which make your worst nightmares seem like fantasies."

Quaritch stopped again and stared them all down before speaking again.

"If you are not paying one hundred percent attention to the task of keeping yourself alive, you will be dead long before you get the opportunity to rotate back. I say this not to scare you, but to prepare you. This is your last chance to sort your shit out, because trust me,"

He grinned conspiratorially at them

"If you don't this place will eat you for breakfast."

He stood for a few seconds watching them all, gauging their disparate reactions. Some of the Marines looked a little shocked, most had blank stares, but the mercs were all grinning. Ray had heard the pep talk before deploying to a dozen other hostile zones during his time in the military.

"Dismissed."

The Colonel returned to the cockpit and the door shut behind him. The Sergeant however started handing out duffle bags to the passengers.

"This pack contains your re-breather, plate carrier, firearm, and everything else you will need. Place the exopack over your mouth and activate the static seal now, you will have no chance to do so once we touch down."

Ray took his duffle and suited up silently amongst the chatting Marines. The crew chief peeked out of the cockpit cabin and flashed four fingers at the Sergeant, who nodded and turned to the men in the bay.

"Four minutes to touchdown people! Get suited and booted! Once we touch down you will report to Compound C-3 and be assigned quarters!"

***

Ray stood near the center of the room with the rest of the mercenaries, the Marines arrayed about them, talking in low voices. Ray didn't know any of the other mercenaries personally but they were easy to spot, and after jogging to the compound they had wordlessly congregated nodding acknowledgements to one another. Mercing was a business for professionals, not recruits, and Ray could feel silent waves of disdain emanating towards the rowdy jarheads. Another officer appeared and after a round of salutes he began calling out names. Ray's mind drifted.

_Hope I don't get bunked with one of these idiots, soldiers don't get much greener than this._

"Specialist, Fletcher, Ray"

Ray edged toward the front of the dwindling crowd and took his Pandoran Security ID tag. The officer consulted a data screen.

"You will be bunking with Private First Class, Keaton, Allen, second floor, room B-7."

"Understood"

Ray gritted his teeth ever so slightly, but decided to reserve judgment for when he actually met the man. He trudged down the corridors and up one flight of stairs, duffle in tow, and hit a green button on a steel doorframe, the words B-7 freshly painted above on the grey bulkhead. The door slid open silently and Ray's blue eyes swept the small room. It was almost cell like. There were two bunks across from each other, identical pairs of lockers, one sink, one trash can and a desk with a lamp squeezed in next to the left bunk, on which was sitting, Ray assumed, Private Keaton. He was a short Marine, brown stubble on his head trimmed neatly and his eyes carrying a boyish sparkle. Ray could tell this was going to be a fucking slog of a tour already. The Marine got up at once and held out his hand, a big smile on his face.

"Hi my names-"

"Don't fucking care. We just sleep here, we're not buddies, or boyos or pals. Got it?"

The Marine looked a little taken aback.

"Hey you don't have to be such a dick, we're in this together."

Ray threw his pack and duffle on the bed and turned to stare at the young soldier.

"You're fresh out of boot aren't you?"

"Well I saw some acti-"

"Yes you fucking are, I knew it. Listen here Caketown, or Keating or whatever the fuck your name is, I am a Mercenary flaming hot off of five consecutive tours of duty, two of them extra-planetary, and none of them police action limp wristed bullshit. I am a killing machine born to rape and pillage in the name of money. And you? You're a chubby shitfaced janitor with a gun. Don't. Come. Near. Me."

"Whatever man."

The Marine shrugged and returned to his bunk. It was a regrettable, but necessary move. Once you made friends in hot zones they usually died, so it was easier to hate most of them, and not get ripped up every time a rebel bullet splattered their brains all over the wall. Ray laid his duffle bag down next to him and opened his personal pack. The inside was stuffed to bursting with cheap cartons of cigarettes. Ray smiled. Give it a month and these suckers would be worth their weight in Unobtainium.

***

Ray fiddled with the optics on his rifle, as the local star Alpha Centuri made its slow path across the sky. The year on Pandora had been uneventful, or as uneventful as a year on this hellish moon could be. He had met the natives only a few times, once as part of an assignment to guard a school teaching them English. That rotation only lasted a few weeks. They were fascinating and more than a little frightening in person, looming over you. Other than a brief incident in which some clawed black jungle beast had almost scalped him, all he had seen of the forest wildlife were scarce glimpses through windswept branches. Perhaps it was his billet. Excavation Site 2 had a reputation for being one of the safest, and usually it was guarded by the greenest soldiers currently on moon, which didn't seem to jive with Ray's considerable record in the armed forces. He pulled another cigarette from the pack nestled in one of his magazine pouches and light it, taking a deep drag of the faux Turkish blend. Behind him massive dozers rumbled back and forth dragging tons of rich ore back to Hell's Gate. Ray glanced impatiently at his watch. It had to be near noon, which meant his shift was due to expire for the day. Sure enough a few minutes later a whistle blew in the command tower and Ray climbed down from his post at the wall. A waiting truck dumped a load of Marines off and whisked Ray's shift back to base, weaving between huge mining vehicles and AMP's along the dirt road.

***

Ray turned the page of the magazine, and then tossed it back into the locker. He knew all of them by heart now, there wasn't much to do around base, and the only recreation area of the compound was fenced off for the Avatar program. The injustice burned him. Here he was, a man risking his life for pay that honestly wasn't all that great, and the only good hoops onsite were reserved for the scientists and their big blue pets.

***

Ray checked another mark into the calendar on his wall. A month and a half into his second year of deployment already.

"Your move."

Dennis sat across from him at a card table where a chessboard was set up. Ray usually didn't play Dennis at chess, mainly because he lost. A lot. Even now Ray's white pieces were beginning to look like a small outpost in a hostile seething sea of black. He shook his head and moved a rook to cover his queen. The door opened and they both looked up. In the doorway stood a SecOps officer, likely a lieutenant but it was not easy to tell.

"Which one of you is Fletcher?"

Dennis raised his hand and Ray punched him playfully.

"Present and accounted for."

The officers stony expression did not waver in the slightest.

"SecOps general staff want to see you. As in right now."

Ray cocked an eyebrow.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Negative, you will be discussing your deployment opportunities."

Ray shrugged at Dennis and followed the officer out of his room and through a series of pressurized hallways to the SecOps compound. They stopped in front of the door to the operations center and the officer turned to Ray.

"They're all waiting for you."

Now THAT made Ray just a little nervous. Brass on Pandora didn't slow down for anything or anyone unless they were either a potential threat or a possible asset. Ray hoped he was on a list of the latter. The door swung to and Ray walked into the room. It was lined with holographic maps and terrain overlay of Pandora. The staff were huddled around a diagram of a tree when Ray entered.

"He says this is support structure, but how could that be possible without augmentation? The loads it would have to bear..."

Ray could hear Quaritch talking back.

"All I need to know is can you bring it down with a standard HE warhead?"

He stopped when he noticed Ray was standing a few feet away.

"Here's the man I wanted to see! Assuming of course, you are Specialist E-5 Ray Fletcher."

"In the flesh sir."

"Good, good. You're probably wondering why we, or I really, wanted to see you."

"Can't say it hasn't crossed my mind sir."

"You've heard of the Avatar program, am I correct?"

Ray had indeed heard of it. Scientists growing clones of the indigenous Na'vi and remotely piloting them from a control center. The concept was ambitious, but had never really held too much of Ray's attention.

"Yessir"

"I'm going to be straight up about this. We have a soldier in an avatar body giving us bang up Intel on the natives. We're ready to expand an armed avatar recon concept, and I'm asking you if you want to be the second prototype."

"It takes years to grow an avatar body, and I'm not planning on sticking around once my enlistment is-"

"Flash clones"

"Flash what sir?"

"Flash clones. Avatars grown quickly at a reduced cost. We've had one ready for you for the past month."

"Respectfully sir, I thought this was optional."

"Oh it is, certainly. We didn't sink anywhere near the amount of money into these second generation models as the first."

Ray considered it. On the one hand, excitement, and a chance to actually see Pandora. On the other hand this might be a very bad idea and the chance of getting killed skyrocketed.

"I thank you for your offer sir, but I just don't get paid enough for that."

The Colonel grinned

"Hah, I thought you'd say that, which is why we are prepared to quadruple your salary."

Ray's eyelid twitched a little.

"Quadruple? Really?"

Ray was just sidetracking, the colonel had him hook line and sinker.

"Really son. Quadruple."

"In that case I accept."

"Congratulations on your promotion, you are now inducted into the Avatar program, report to the link building for your new assignment."

Ray grinned. A salary like the one he'd just landed was unheard-of, especially in his line of work.

"One more thing. I will debrief you every two weeks starting now at 2200 hours. You will not tell anyone about the debriefing, and while you are tagging along with a research team, you will fulfill certain objectives I give you. You will not inform the scientists of these objectives, they're nosy enough as is."

"Got it sir."

The colonel waved his hand towards a much larger duffle lying on the floor by the door.

"That bag contains all the items you will need, sized to fit an avatar. Dismissed."

***

Ray groaned as he lugged the massive duffle over the tarmac towards the avatar compound, not easy work, especially in an exopack. Alpha Centuri had just crossed the horizon a few hours ago and it's rays were baking into his neck. After dropping off his duffle near the outer hatch, he walked through the airlock and into the link room. It was a circular room with a slightly raised center dais, bristling with data screens and instrument panels, white coated technicians scurrying back and forth. A young black haired woman walked over to him, smiling.

"You must be Fletcher, come on over, you don't have much time to get used to your avatar before the research team gets here."

Ray was lead over to one of the pods and settled in, the cushy gel acclimating to his frame immediately. The tech's disembodied voice came to him through a speaker in his pod.

"Now try to keep still and relax, the first time is always a little weird."

"Wait, what do you me-"

Suddenly Ray was screaming down a tube, colors flashing and whirling around. The pod faded away and the colors were the only thing tying him to this consciousness. Then there was darkness. Ray opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a white room, and an exo-masked face was peering at him and flashing a light into his eyes. Ray blinked once, twice and pushed himself up. After a battery of tedious tests and exercises Ray could walk, talk, run, jump, and do most other tasks with complete confidence.

"Alright Fletcher, we're letting you lose. Just hang around the basketball courts until the rest of the team gets here."

Ray nodded and stepped into the airlock, changing into a set of BDU's and boots he had been provided. The other end of the airlock opened and Ray breathed in fresh Pandoran air for the first time. He retrieved his duffle and opened it, emptying the contents onto the deserted basketball court. The brass had given him an oversized rifle, six magazines, an armor weave plate carrier, a throat mic, a knife, a holster, and a sidearm.

"Nice."

Quaritch had pulled out all the stops for him. Ray suited up and sat on a bench, the morning light feeling a lot less abrasive on his new skin. He brought his new powerful hand up to his face and flexed his fingers. It was a fantastic feeling, being in this body, the one downside being the tail. It was awkward and painful to sit on, and got in the way most of the time. His thoughts were interrupted as the airlock door opened and three other avatars stepped out, two woman and a man, dressed casually in khaki shorts and t-shirts. Ray stood up and walked over to them. A woman stepped forward and held out her hand.

"You must be Ray. I'm Jamie, to my right is Geoff, and over here is Alice."

Alice rolled her eyes.

"Great. I see Quaritch has loaded us up with another liability."

Jamie gave Ray a look up and down.

"I have to agree with Alice, you're carrying a lot of gear for a science mission. Promise me you'll keep your finger well away from the trigger, diplomacy is fragile at this juncture and gunning down any more Na'vi will get you lynched so fast your head won't get the chance to spin."

"Cool your jets, I'm not here to go on a rampage."

Alice snorted

"Coulda fooled me."

Geoff, who was looking a little nervous and generally staying out of the exchange suddenly piped up.

"Our choppers here, lets go."

The twin rotor SA-2 Samson touched down a few yards away, sending loose foliage and dirt flying under its powerful rotor wash. A few minutes later and they were clear of Hell's Gate airspace, zooming just above the lush canopy of the jungle below. Ray could almost reach out and touch the leaves. The aircraft banked and began to descend into the sea of green, the pilot steering for a clearing in the brush. The skids touched down and Rays training kicked in. His rifle scanned the tree line, finger on trigger. Alice jumped out and strolled nonchalantly over to him.

"Your turn to cool it jarhead. If there was danger we'd either be in contact or dead before you got the chance to fire that thing."

Ray lowered the weapon but his muscles didn't unbind themselves an inch. They were in the frying pan now, no two ways about it. Jamie shouldered a pack and motioned for them to follow.

"Settlements about a mile that away."

She pointed down what could only be called a trail in the fact that it seemed to have a minutely smaller amount of underbrush than the other directions. The hike took almost an hour, with Ray on point, pushing through the dense underbrush, and the smaller researchers following in his wake. The foliage thinned as they approached the village, discernable only by distant musical voices drifting through the mostly quiet forest. Finally when Ray was about to collapse and request a break they broke through into the village. There was no underbrush, but the tree density was the same, with houses built into the sides and roots of the behemoths, that, clear of the undergrowth, could be seen growing to fantastic heights, terminating in a huge canopy of leaves that glowed with the noon-day sunlight. An older female villager approached them and began to converse fluently with Jamie. Geoff turned to Ray.

"Look, just hang back, we'll be fine, don't want the villagers to get spooked."

Ray nodded and walked back towards the edge of the encampment, where he sat on a stump and light a cigarette, choking a little as his new lungs got used to the harsh vapor. Jamie and the alien continued to talk, walking deeper into the village as they did so. Ray keyed his throat mic and spoke.

"Baseplate, this is Winchester 2-1 actual, marking location of hostile encampment, look for the beacon, Over."

Quaritch's voice came back over the earpiece.

"Roger that 2-1. Over and out."

Ray reached into his pocket and withdrew a wafer thin chip with a hair-like antenna, which he buried deep into a crack in the stump. The chip beeped once and Ray smiled.

"And that's the ballgame folks."

Ray sensed a pair of eyes on him and turned around. A small blue child was watching him from a few feet away, inquisitive cat-like eyes watching him, head slightly tilted.

"Aynga faheu hiyik!"

Ray cocked an eyebrow at him.

"No habla alien little bro."

Another Na'vi, likely the child's mother, called out from across the village and the child gave him one last look before dashing away.

***

Quaritch was scared. Ray could tell just by looking at him. It was difficult to pick up, but it was there.

"In another week there could be twenty thousand, at which point they will overrun us."

Ray shook his head. How had it come to this? All mining operations outside Hell's Gate had been shut down in light of the traitor PFC Jake Sully and his ragtag army of blue cats. It was ridiculous, a rabble of savages pinning down the most well equipped force ever. Admittedly, they were outnumbered at this point by a ration of 1.5:1, but really, the whole thing was just flat out stupid. After the briefing Quaritch took Ray aside.

"Ray, as of now, you are my only avatar asset left. Half of my science staff are fucking traitors, and the rest are leaning that way. I need you on the ground in case things go wrong for us. Your main objective as of now is to find and kill former Private First Class Jake Sully. They've taken the mobile uplink and hidden it somewhere near the Tree of Souls, where we can't track it. I have a link all warmed up and a chopper on the pad as we speak."

"Yes sir."

Ray grabbed his avatar gear bag and ran as fast as he could manage to the avatar bay. The airlock whooshed open and he saw most of staff including program co-head Max Patel huddled around a video screen.

"Someone's coming, I have to go."

The staff dispersed from the screen a little guiltily, but Ray didn't have time to be suspicious, the shuttle had already taken off, and he needed to be on the ground five minutes ago. He jumped into his link and pulled the lid closed. The staff hurried around to the consoles to make the transfer. Minutes later Ray was in the cockpit of a Samson, pulling back on the stick and easing away from the concrete landing pad. Once he had enough altitude he shifted the stick forward and pushed towards the massive floating chunks of rock in the distance. After a few minutes of flight a voice cam over his throat mic.

"Ray, this is Dr. Max Patel."

Ray frowned and keyed the mic.

"Read you five by five, go ahead Max."

"Look, Ray, I'm not going to bullshit around, what orders did you get from Quaritch?"

"Why do you care?"

"Ray, you might be making a big mistake, it's hard to explain right now bu-"

"Ah yes, the colonel told me there might be traitors."

"Ray, I'm going to ask you one last time, whatever it is Quaritch sent you out to do is crap, this whole thing is going to hell and you don't need to be on the wrong side."

"Fuck you, you lab puke, this IS the winning side, and if you touch that goddamn link I will bleed you like a stuck pig, are we clear?"

Ray heard a sigh over the mic

"Nothing personal Ray..."

"Don't you dare! Don't you fuc-"

And suddenly Ray went limp, his arms convulsing, hands slipping from the controls. He was rushing down a tunnel of light towards something. He caught a hazy glimpse of the inside of a tube and heard raised voices.

"I can't get a fix on his signal, the link is corrupted, he's using one of Quaritch's damn flash clones, I TOLD him this could happen!"

"Stop the transfer, he's going back over again!"

"I'm trying damnit!"

Something was wrong. Light filled his minds eye again and his vision faded to black. Once again he was in a helicopter cockpit, but the scenery outside was spinning out of control, and altitude alarms were blaring. The last thing Ray saw before being knocked out cold was the Low. Alt. button on the master alarm panel flashing desperately. Then it all went black.

***

When Ray came to Alpha Centuri was dropping below the canopy. His vision was hazy and he held a hand in front of his face. Blood. A dark and sickly red dripped down his hand. He must have hit his head in the crash. Slowly he tried to pull himself from the wreckage and out the broken canopy windshield. I took him a long aching quarter of an hour to extract his oversized body. Shakily looking back, Ray saw that some of it was still smoking. He pulled out his knife and cut the black seat cover from the pilots chair, tying it around his head to staunch the bleeding.

"Goddamn it... "

He was totally alone. The forest was dead quiet save for the rushing of a nearby stream. Ray closed his eyes, picked a random direction, and started walking. The minutes blurred into hours, as he pushed through the thick branches and bioluminescent scrub. The forest was coming alight with an unearthly glow. A twig cracked somewhere and he froze, pulling his rifle up to the ready. For a minute he stood, totally still, eyes scanning the brush, long ears hunting for the faintest sound, but there was none. He turned back to continue walking. His feet had only carried him ten paces when out of nowhere a bolas entangled his legs and he fell to the ground.

"Oh crap, what the hell?!?"

Ray ripped of the bolas and jumped to his feet just in time to get a massive blow across the chest from the wooden end of a bow. His rifle flew away from him and he fell backwards onto the grassy ground. Desperately he attempted to cock his pistol but a blue figure pounced him and knocked it out of his hands. Cursing, he tried to counter grab the Na'vi but it was slippery as an eel, dodging his grabs and landing blow after blow. Ray, in serious danger of blacking out again, balled his feet to his chest and kicked out hard. His boots made contact and the alien flew off of him, landing a few feet away. Ray quickly stood up and pulled out his knife, charging headlong towards the Na'vi, who was still pulling herself off of the ground. Moments before his knife tore the offending being to bloody ribbons a second wooden object hit him over the back of the head and he was knocked out cold.

***

Light was filtering through his eyes, which weren't entirely closed. He got up and stretched. Or at least tried to, and then almost tripped over the thick rope that tied his ankle to the small tree behind him.

"This is not good..."

His shirt, plate carrier and weapons were lying a few yards away on a large stump, and as he felt his pockets, he realized they were empty. There seemed to be no one around. Franticly Ray fiddled with the knot, but it was no use, the tangle seemed to bend back on itself over and over again. He tried gnawing on it with his teeth, but it tasted horrible and he soon gave up. Looking around in a mild panic he spotted a small stick of wood. He grabbed it and spent the next five minutes attempting to sharpen in with a rock. The resulting edge was crude, but the rope frayed and broke under Ray's frantic strokes. Ripping the vine off of his boot, he ran over and put on his gear as fast as possible. He was just putting the rifle sling over his neck when he heard soft footsteps approaching the camp. Quickly he dove behind a tree and pulled a large fern frond over himself, and slowly peeked out at the clearing. Two female Na'vi emerged from the brush and Ray recognized one of them from the struggle the other night. The other must have been the one that knocked him out. His head gave a remorseful twinge where the unyielding wood of the hometree had hit an already tender scalp. One of the two was holding a satchel, which she dropped upon seeing the broken vine lying next to the stump. It burst open and berries rolled onto the forest floor. The other female, whom Ray recognized, began searching the dirt around it, and started walking straight towards Rays hiding spot.

"Oh fuck, my footprints."

Ray decided the situation was untenable whatever the outcome. Best just to make a go of it. He burst to his feet suddenly and pointed his standard issue rifle at the two hunters.

"Hold it right there!"

The Na'vi closest to him froze at the sight of the gun, a look of terror on her face. The far Na'vi who had dropped the satchel notched an arrow in the blink of an eye. They all stood there for a half a minute or so, neither side knowing quite how to resolve the standoff. Finaly the Na'vi closest to Ray seemed to gather her courage and speak.

"We mean no hurt, please lower your weapon."

"Yeah and what, you shoot me full of arrows, right? I'm not stupid you know!"

"You were trespassing on our lands, dreamwalker. The price for that is steep."

Ray started backing up slowly, weapon still raised.

"And you held against his will an employee of the Resource Development Administration, I could blow you all away and no one would bat an eye!"

The Na'vi with the bow laughed.

"The sky people have all gone, little skxawng, your threats fall like water on stone."

Ray stopped.

"What are you talking about, we won!"

"Ho, Pamtseo'Ite, this uniltìranyu has a strange idea of winning."

The Na'vi closest to Ray took a step towards him.

"Your people left aboard a ship, only a few remain with the Omaticaya."

Rays jaw dropped.

"No... You're not serious? But we didn't..."

His mouth floundered for words, and the Na'vi with the bow let out a peal of laughter to which the one called Pamtseo'Ite motioned at her to hush.

"We only wished to take you to see our eyktan, and decide what to do about you."

Ray's eyes dimmed, and he let his weapon fall back on its sling.

"Fine, whatever, doesn't really matter now anyway. The ships gone, I'm stuck in this godawful jungle, do whatever you like."

"Follow me."

In a bit of a daze Ray walked after her, the other Na'vi slipping into file behind him warily.

***

It was almost morning the next day when they arrived at a break in the trees. Even in his sleep deprived and exhausted state Ray marveled at the huge arches of rock that curved high above their heads. Pamtseo'Ite turned to him.

"We are very close now to the tree of souls. You will rest here and come nightfall you will be judged before Eywa."

They continued to walk down the gentle slope until Ray could see it. It was even more impressive in person. A huge willow-like tree towered out of a depression in the land, columns of rock zigzagging in massive arcs above it, hundreds of Na'vi were camped around it, working, playing, and signing in high clear voices that chilled Ray to the bone. They continued towards a large tree near the edge of the clearing, around them Na'vi stopped and stared at the strange dreamwalker in his hard shell of armor. Pamtseo'Ite stoped at the roots and spoke to Ray.

"You will hand over your weapons and armor over, and you will wait here until called for"

Silas pulled the armor carrier off and threw it on the ground, followed by his holster containing his pistol. Pamtseo'Ite once again tied him to a stump, and held out her hand. Ray looked up at her innocently.

"What?"

Pamtseo'Ite stared at him stonily.

"Okay, okay."

Ray fished in his pocket and tossed the sheathed knife to her. The few Na'vi standing around started to disperse and Ray light a cigarette.

***

Ray's mind lay dormant in a deep dreamless sleep. Something was poking him. He brushed it away. It poked again, this time harder.

"Ow!"

Ray woke with a start and stood up. It was night and a gently smiling Pamtseo'Ite was poking him with her bow.

"Time to wake, you are to be judged. What is your name, so I may call you something besides sky-person."

"Ray. Ray Fletcher."

"Ray'Fleytchur."

She repeated his name, rolling the words off of her tongue. Her odd inflection brought a wry smile to Ray's face.

"Close enough."

Her expression grew more serious.

"Traditionally you would be judged by the spirit leader and the leader of the Omaticaya, but JakeSully and Neytiri are attending to other duties. I will be the spirit judge."

She led Ray down a path into the heart of the clearing. Two guards with bows flanked them and stood at the lower dais as Ray and Pamtseo'Ite climbed the steps toward the tree's glowing fibers, blowing gently in the Pandoran breeze. Pamtseo'Ite knelt and motioned Ray to do the same. Then she reached behind him and put his queue against the tendrils, and small white fibers curled around them. She followed suit.

And then Ray felt it. A presence like soft silk and warm rain push itself into his mind, or was he in it's? It was impossible to tell. He could hear Pamtseo'Ite's voice, but not with his ears. She was speaking in Na'vi, and he could not make out her meaning. Then the presence spoke and it's words echoed inside Ray's mind.

**"Ray Fletcher. You bear a great burden."**

Images were flashing in front of his eyes. His parents, shot dead, lying on cold pavement, an ever expanding pool of blood staining their clothes as metro police tugged him gently away from their corpses, the gunman being hauled off, ranting and shouting to the night air.

**"Yet you caused burdens greater still than your own. You took revenge on the world."**

He was in Guatemala, holding a young militant by the throat, a long knife creeping nearer and nearer to his neck. Then he was in the sub-Sahara, shooting at armed locals under the grating sunlight, some falling, other dragging their comrades back into huts and firing wildly at their convoy. Then he was in the city, a rioter no older than twenty trembling and trying to bring a heavy rifle to bear on him. He laughed and gunned her down in a hail of caseless ammunition. Picture after picture, scene after scene. Devastation, violence, his entire career as a mercenary stretched before his own eyes. Then, as suddenly as they came, the images stopped.

**"You have become twisted. A mockery of what you once were. Your mind is cold and detached. If there is any hope of redemption or reconciliation, it must come from you. For without that, you are beyond even my help."**

Ray became aware that he was sitting , arms crossed over legs, tears streaming down his face for the first time in years. He felt like a child. Lost and alone. He looked up and saw Pamtseo'Ite untangling her queue. She looked into his haunted eyes and shook her head in sadness.

"Why do you sky people do this? Lock away emotion, and let it tear at you like a caged beast."

Ray stood and turned to leave.

"Wait."

Ray stopped.

"What? You saw the real me. The choice is obvious. You can save your breath."

Pamtseo'Ite stood and walked around to face him.

"I will help you."

_**Thanks for reading, hope it wasn't too awful!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Pamtseo'Ite bit deep into the fruit and smiled, wiping the fragrant juices from her smiling lips.

"A good find Ray, you are getting better at this."

Ray sidled up and sat down on the tree limb next to her.

"Glad you think so."

Silently they both watched Pandora's main light source, Alpha Centuri AB sink beneath the horizon. A tenuous twilight was falling, the sun had faded from the sky, but it would be a while until the cold light of local bioluminescence flared to life. Pamtseo'Ite broke the silence first.

"Is it a long way to your world?"

Ray smiled faintly

"Yes. Very far. Took me over five years to get here in fact."

"That is a long time to be away. Do you miss your family?"

Rays smile faded.

"Nothing to miss. Both parents are long gone, no siblings, no uncles, no nothing."

Pamtseo'Ite glanced at the deadpan expression on his face.

"I am sorry. I did not know."

Ray continued to gaze out at the field of stars shining down on the green canopy of the forest.

"Don't be. You stop missing them after a while."

A long pause followed before she spoke again.

"Do you miss your home?"

Ray looked out at the stars, wondering if the little grey-blue ball was spinning out there somewhere near one of them.

"No, I can honestly say I don't miss Earth. It wasn't a nice place to live, and I expect its only gotten worse."

"What happened?"

Ray twiddled his thumbs

"It's a long story. Look, its getting late, we should head back."

Pamtseo'Ite swiveled around on the branch to face Ray and crossed her legs.

"We have time. Come, tell me."

Rays looked down past his dangling legs at the cornucopia of greenery swaying gently in the dusk breeze below. After a while, he spoke.

"It started with the water. We ran out."

Pamtseo'Ite looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"How can you run out of water? Is your home dry?"

"Not at first it wasn't. In the beginning there was enough for everyone, and no one paid much attention to where it came from. We handed control of it over to corporations, thinking they would manage it for us, but they pumped too much, and the cycle of clean water was disrupted."

Again Pamtseo'Ite looked confused.

"Co-po-rayshuns?"

Ray clarified.

"Groups of sky people, banded together to make money at any cost."

"Eventually the clean water we had was polluted, and people began to fight over what was left. Clean water became more valuable than anything else, and people fought and died by the millions for it."

"Why would your people do that? Did they not know?"

Rays lips pulled back in a wry smile

"Oh yes, they knew. In fact they tried to sell us the methods to clean the water that they had dirtied. Anyway, when all the taps ran dry or brown, the tribes of my world turned their attention to the last collection of unexploited water on the Earth, a place known as the Guarani Aquifer. Over the course of a single year, seven and a half million soldiers and civilians perished in one mad dash to pump the water out of the soil. By that point the corporations had more power than the tribes, and they silently took over. After that everything was run for money. Land that had once been protected was ravaged for the last ounce of valuable material."

Ray turned to her and looked directly into her eyes.

"There are fields Pamtseo, fields, where broken houses and broken people choke on toxic fumes from huge machines. I have seen them with my own eyes."

Pamtseo'Ite stared into the former soldiers haunted eyes in silent horror.

"It is all gone now. Every last green plant and tree has been killed. Now the rest of my race dies slowly in squalor. Those who have the money have fled to other planets. I had no money, so I joined a mercenary group run by one of the corporations, and they sent me here. What you saw would have only been the beginning. They would have ravaged this place and destroyed every last thing that walks, crawls, swims, and flies."

Fierce tears started to fall freely from his face and he looked away from her, ashamed at his weakness. She got up and sat down next to him, her blue skinned legs hanging next to him, her shoulders rubbing against his.

"But now you are here, and they are not. And that is all that matters."

Together they watched the ferns and leaves slowly come aglow.


	3. Chapter 3

The jungle whipped by as Ray's direhorse muscled its way nimbly through the forest, in hot pursuit of the panickedHexapede. The skittish little creature kept changing directions, and twice he had almost collided with his fellow huntsmen, two strong and good natured Na'vi, who had invited him along. Branches whipped his face and Ray cursed into the wind, trying to get a good shot off of his bow. Left, right, left, left, the terrified herbivore led them in an ever more intricate pattern of zigs and zags, Finnaly, they rounded a thick tree into a sort of alleyway of brush, too thick to penetrate. All three hunters loosed their arrows. The animal was dead before it hit the ground. Ray skidded to a stop and after pulling out his queue joined his comrades next to the corpse. One of the Na'vi bent and spoke the blessing of Eywa onto the dead animal. He then turned to Ray and smiled broadly.

"Not bad for your first hunt, it is a good kill."

Ray nodded and helped the two warriors drag the dead animal back to a clearing under one of the huge Pandoran trees.

"We will make camp in the tree, it is not safe to sleep on the forest floor at night, even for an Omaticaya."

The other hunter grinned

"Yes, all Eywa's children must eat sometime."

After some difficult pulling the trio suspended the carcass well above the floor with a strong length of rope. The hunters retired to the shade of a large hollow in the body of the tree, some distance above their kill. As the other two sat talking and laughing Ray sat and reflected on his time in the Omaticaya tribe. Pamtseo'Ite had been his mentor for the last few months, and he could say that for the first time in his life he was truly happy. On Pandora, days consisted of story telling, hunting, weaving, and any number of things. The dangerous forest kept him on his toes, but it was the peaceful moments, usually in the company of Pamtseo'Ite that took his breath away. He hadn't yet met the famous Jake Sully, but it couldn't be long now. One of the hunters accompanying him nudged him.

"So, I hear you used to be a hunter yourself, what do they hunt back on your world?"

Ray pursed his lips

"Other sky-people."

The boisterous young male laughed

"So, a warrior then! Fight in any great battles?

Ray stretched his arms and turned his body to face them.

"Plenty. Did two years in Brazil, four in Russia, and a one and a half on Mars before I came out here."

The two looked a little awestruck, and plied him with more questions

"What was it like?"

"Not pretty. You're running most of the time, trying not to get your head blown off, laying down fire, taking fire. Russia was the worst. Worse than Mars. I think we lost more men to cold in the wintertime than we did to enemy fire. I got this scar here in-"

Ray reached up to touch his cheek, but stopped when he remembered that this was a new body. The hunter to Rays right leaned back against the wall of the hollow and put his hands behind his head.

"Hah, we're warriors in name only. There hasn't been a real war in our lifetime. Boring I tell you."

Ray looked into the young ones face

"War isn't something you wish for."

"Yeah but it would be nice to be able to prove ourselves, rather than just listening to songs, I'd get a chance to earn the name warrior in a real-"

Ray cut him off and stared straight into his eyes.

"War is black."

"Black as pitch."

"It is not a God. It does not laugh or weep."

The hunters looked a little taken aback but remained silent

"It rewards neither skill nor daring. It is not a trial of souls, nor the measure of wills."

"Even less is it a tool, a means to some womanish end."

Rays eyes were slightly glazed, he had not forgotten what Ewya had shown him.

"It is merely the place where the iron bones of the earth meet the hollow bones of men and break them."

A long silence followed punctuated only by birdsong and wind rustling through branches. Then the two nodded and changed the topic. Ray light a cigarette and joined them in conversation. After a fashion the subject changed to women.

"Yes, I have a woman back in the village. Come my manhood ceremony we will be bonded before Ewya."

The hunter on the right turned to Ray and adopted a conspiratorial smile

"So, I hear you have an admirer yourself"

Ray cocked an eyebrow, puzzled. The hunter on his left snickered.

"Oh come, you must have noticed how Pamtseo'Ite looks at you! I remember once you left the village for a day, and she moped around the whole time, would hardly talk to anyone."

An awkward smile began to tug at the corners of Rays mouth. It was entirely possible the adolescents were taking him for a ride.

"You see! You know what I speak of! Just two suns ago, an uncle of mine was talking about how he's surprised that she finally found a mate, such a shy thing!"

The two hunters laughed heartily at this and Ray found himself getting a little hot.

"Come on, you're joking with me."

The hunter on the right fixed him with a semi-serious eye.

"I wouldn't joke about something like that brother, she has eyes for you, and it seems everyone in the village has seen it but you!"

This incited another peal of laughter and Ray found himself joining in, their voices echoing off the walls and scaring a cluster of colorful birds into the air.


	4. Chapter 4

Pamtseo'Ite jogged brusquely ahead, stopping every few minutes to wait for Ray, who was content to plod along at his own pace, taking in the wonders of the jungle that had a few months ago been so alien to him. The young female was bubbly and bouncy, alive in her youth, and always a little impatient at Ray, who was content to take things just a bit slower. Ray rounded another bend in the trail formerly used by the RDA, now already almost overgrown with brush. Pamtseo'Ite stood leaning against a tree, tapping her bow impatiently against the soft soil. As he approached she reprimanded him.

"Could you be any slower?"

A wide grin split his face.

"Yes."

Ray made his movements exagge

ratedly slow and Pamtseo'Ite rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"At this pace it will take all day!"

Ray shrugged unapologetically.

"I'm not particularly excited to go back, it's not like I've never seen it before."

"Yes, but I've never seen it before, and as soon as Eywa's trees claim it for her own, I will never see it again."

It had all started a few days ago. Pamtseo was always questioning him about how sky people lived, what they ate, and all manner of other trivial questions. When Ray had described to her the inside of Hell's Gate, she was flabbergasted. (_Metal beds? No wonder your people were in such a bad mood!_) It was turning into a long Pandoran summer and responsibilities were at their lowest, so no one had given them a second glance when they had packed up and left. Alright, maybe in hindsight there had been some eye-rolling, but it was always in conjunction with knowing smiles and winks. The village Pamtseo'ite was from was a much smaller subset of the forest tribe, living a good distance from the former site of the Hometree. It took them the rest of the morning to reach the outer wall of the desolate human fortress, its massive walls now bent and covered with foliage which provided an excellent climbing surface. After some help Ray managed to clamber after Pamtseo'Ite over the double walls and onto the base proper. After a slightly rough landing, Ray turned and spotted her looking around the massive complex with that spark of curiosity in her eyes that he knew so well.

The place had really gone to seed by human standards. Pavement near the walls was starting to crack under the pressure of a thousand little shoots pushing beneath it. There were burn marks on the main landing pad where the massive shuttle had made an impromptu landing to evacuate a defeated ground force. Pressure differences had blown out all of he exterior windows, and the power from the bases backup stores was long gone. The turrets no longer swiveled to face targets, and small animals nested in the guard towers. There was little time to take in the scenery, because soon Pamtseo'Ite wanted him to show her where he had slept in this odd sky-person dwelling. Ray led her to the compound nearest them and after a few tries managed to pry open the unpowered door to his old room. The room hadn't changed much. There were a few faded magazines on the floor, featuring humans females with a minimum of clothing. Pamtseo'Ite flicked these under a bunk with her foot, looking at them disparagingly. Ray unlocked his old locker and scanned it. To his surprise, his old ruck was still inside. He pulled it open and a small avalanche of empty cigarette cartons fell to the floor. The marines had not attempted to return Rays property to him. Pamtseo'Ite picked up one of the packs with a quizzical eye, and attempted to read it.

"Malaralboro, malbarao, marlbralo, Ray, what does this say?"

Ray took the box from her gently and tossed it in the waste bin in the corner.

"It is a sky-people word. Made up, Doesn't really mean anything."

Ray's grasp of the Na'vi language was pretty good and they had been talking in it entirely for the past few weeks, but Pamtseo'Ite, ever curious about the sky-people had developed an interest in English. Ray wasn't in the best position to sate her curiosity, not being much of a teacher, but he had given her some translations as to what the humans had called certain things. An unlit cigarette rolled out from the pack and Ray snatched it up, tucking it into the waistband of his loincloth. Pamtseo'Ite gave the room a last look.

"I thought it would be more interesting, how did you live in this place? So boring!"

"I agree. C'mon, lets eat."

The two would-be explorers climbed to the top of the compound and let the sun beat down up them, Ray pulling a few food-wraps out of a satchel at his waist. There were no words in Na'vi or English to describe how good Omaticaya food-wraps were. It was a simple but genius amalgamation of a bundle of meat and spices, bound around with an edible leaf and a small strand of twine. Ray gobbled up his, and light the pilfered cigarette, taking a deep drag. Pamtseo'Ite's nostrils retracted at the smell of stale tobacco, and she reached over and flicked it out of his mouth. Ray turned to her, slightly shocked.

"Hey! That was probably the last smoke on Pandora!"

Pamtseo'Ite swallowed a mouthful of food and shook her head dismissively.

"Good. I hate those things, every time, I can smell it on you, its disgusting."

Ray rolled his eyes and sat back to enjoy the sun.

"It's very bland, do all your living spaces look like this?"

"No, only the military ones. Earth isn't much better. Imagine this, but as far as the eye can see."

Ray looked over at Pamtseo'Ite. She was not looking at her surroundings, but rather staring at him, looking a little hazy-eyed. She looked away at once and blushed a little. There was a quiet moment in which neither of them spoke. Then Ray stood up.

"Hey, you want to learn how to play basketball?"

Pamtseo'Ite looked back at him, a confused look on her face.

"What?"

"Basketball! Ancient sky-people sport, come on, the courts are over there."

Ray could feel the warmth in her soft hand as he helped her to her feet.


	5. Chapter 5

A bit of sweat broke out on Rays arms as he heaved at the rope. His muscles were almost dead from hauling the pieces of the huge weaving loom into place, but today he ignored the discomfort. His last test before the manhood ceremony was the Uniltaron, or dream hunt, and he wanted to be in peak physical condition. Na'vi with much more knowledge of the forest than he had died before.

Across from him in the shade of one of the many massive trees that made up the village, Pamtseo'Ite watched him. He was such a funny being. A body honed like a predatory animal yet he was often quiet and thoughtful, an odd contradiction that she was strangely attracted to. Too many Na'vi males tried to impress through brawn and boasting. Pamtseo had been encouraged towards a few by her family but none had interested her. Exasperated, they had given up their friendly teasing. Then Ray had almost literally appeared like a meteor and turned her world on its head. The village, ever eager for gossip had seized upon her apparent interest in this dreamwalker, and the ribbing had begun afresh, directed both at her and Ray. An older woman in the circle looked up and rolled her eyes.

"Pamtseo'Ite my child, you are staring again."

"Hm? What, oh, no I was just-"

"Staring. The knots on your end are getting sloppy."

Pamtseo'Ite blushed deeply and returned to her weaving, while the other members of circle exchanged knowing grins.

***

The days work done the two sat on a high branch, far out of reach of the rest of the village. Ray was whittling aimlessly into a piece of stream driftwood with his combat knife, little brown flakes flying away and drifting gently towards the forest floor. Pamtseo'Ite was watching his odd five fingered hands work.

"Ray, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How did you... well... I thought being a dreamwalker was not forever."

The knife stopped cutting.

"Wasn't supposed to be."

"But I don't understand how, JakeSully was put into his body by Eywa, but you-"

Ray looked over at her. Her eyes were staring at him inquisitively, but cautiously, lest she touch a nerve. He smiled, hoping to disarm her fears.

"The dreamwalker bodies are grown in big-"

He stopped, realizing he was about to launch into an explanation that would make absolutely no sense to her.

"They are grown. Quicker than normal. Combined with-"

He stopped again. DNA was not a concept easily explained to someone whose culture didn't find a need for science.

"-Parts of sky people, but mostly Na'vi. They control the growth and put in, these, remote links that grow naturally in their brains. Mine was grown very fast, and they neglected quality. The link was faulty, and the day before we met it stopped working."

Ray shrugged slightly, hoping he had at least answered that question. However knowing her, there was always more.

"Does your name, mean anything?"

Again, Rays knife stopped cutting into the wood. It was a good question.

"No, not really. Ray is short for Raymond, but I hate that name."

"Why?"

"Dunno, sounds weird I guess. Rays always just felt more natural."

"What about your other name? Does it mean anything?"

"Never really thought about it. Not really, Fletcher was my dads last name."

"What was your father like?"

Ray shook his head and put the whittling to the side, leaning back against the cool bark of the trunk. Pamtseo'Ite looked over, afraid for a second that she had offended him.

"No, it's okay, its just that I'm trying to think, I can't remember all that much about him. I remember he used to tell good stories. He was away a lot, had to raise money because my mom was sick with the early stages of river blindness."

Pamtseo's eyes glazed a little.

"Oh."

"Yep. Kinda hard on me, had to learn to do things right the first time from an early age."

"Do they have a manhood ceremony on your world?"

Ray grinned, images of attending friends bachelor parties while on leave floated through his head.

"Not really. You have to attend a school, and after about thirteen years of that they say you're an adult."

"Like Dr. Augustines school?"

"A little. You had to attend most of the year and by the time I was seventeen or so I realized most of the stuff they were feeding us wasn't true."

Pamtseo'Ite looked puzzled

"A school where you were taught lies?"

Ray shook his head. It was interesting, sometimes Pamtseo'Ite would put things clearer than he ever could.

"Pretty much. Most of the schools were owned by the RDA at that point. Hell, they owned pretty much everything."

Pamtseo'Ite swung her legs gently as a breeze gusted through the canopy, shaking the large green fronds. The sun crested lower towards the horizon and she stood, motioning to him.

"You need to get rest. Your Dreamhunt is tomorrow and you need to be ready."

Ray stood and grasped her hand. She turned around.

"Come on, lets just stay a little longer, I love watching the sunset."

Slowly a smile curved her face and she nodded, sitting down with him, back against the trunk of the huge tree. After a while she laid her head on his shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hope you can forgive any grammar screw-up's, Its like 1:30 in the morning. Ray embarks on his dreamhunt and meets a few familiar faces.**_

Ray was standing in a meadow. Not a Pandoran one, but one on Earth. His parents were towering over him, taking pictures and laughing together, but even as he looked at them their faces grew fuzzy and indistinct. The ground started to shake. Ray looked around but he seemed to be the only one affected by this earthquake. Then he opened his eyes.

"Wake up Ray. You sleep like a baby!"

Pamtseo'Ite was kneeling next to him, shaking him awake. Slowly he sat up and rubbed his eyes out of habit.

"The village elder is waiting for you, he will tell you what your spirit animal will be."

Ray nodded, still a little groggy. As he shimmied down the trunk of the tree, the sun began to dawn over the horizon. Most of the villagers were still asleep, and the ones who were awake gave him respectful nods as he passed. A dreamhunt was not an idle quest. The elder was seated in the center of the clearing, wizened eyes closed, legs crossed. He motioned Ray to sit next to him. For a while he did not speak, then he opened his eyes and examined Ray.

"Ray'Fleythchur, you have proved yourself a valuable member of the village."

Ray lowered his head respectfully

"Thank you."

"However. You have a past you have not yet entirely come to terms with. Eywa has not forgotten you my child, or what that head contains."

He pointed a long finger at Rays forehead.

"You will travel a ways to the north of this village. There, there is a valley where few Na'vi go but on urgent business. It is palulukan breeding ground."

Rays jaw dropped open. Thanators, or _dry mouth, bringer of fear_ as they were rightly known among the Na'vi were like panthers, but worse. A thousand times worse. Faster than a whip, stronger than a full size AMP suit, and with an innate inbred cunning that bordered on outright malevolence. The Na'vi sung no songs of them. Other creatures steered well clear of them.

"That is my spirit animal."

A small smile tugged at the corners of the elders wrinkled face.

"So Eywa commands it."

Ray nodded. What had to be done, had to be done. Even if it involved killing a six legged black nightmare on its home turf.

"Bring what you will need and then return."

Ray stood and jogged off towards the tree that contained his small abode. Pulling open a satchel, he retrieved his camouflage lower uniform. No way was a loin cloth going to cut it here, mobility be damned. Also he pulled out the sheath containing his plain edged combat knife and clipped it onto his web belt. He grabbed his bow that was leaning up against the wall, turned around, and almost ran smack into Pamtseo'Ite. The RDA's personal noise control training course had nothing on her. Her eyes had the usual spark of curiosity burning in them.

"So? What creature did Ewya give you? Angtsik?"

Ray shook his head.

"I got, wait for it... Palulukan."

A little bit of color drained from Pamtseo'Ite's face.

"Really? Those aren't hardly ever given for dreamhunts!"

Ray patted her on the shoulder

"Relax, I can handle this. You act like it's still my first day here."

He pushed past her and climbed back down, leaving her to fret. The elder was sitting in the same exact position as he had left him, but now a large stone jar was sitting ominously next to him. Ray sat down across from him and the elder pulled open the jar, pulling out an Arachnoid, a large venomous bug with two nasty stingers. Ray knew what was next. He held out his arm and the elder put the bug upside down against his skin. The panicked insect stung him and pumped its toxic venom into his veins. The pain was horrible, smarting and stinging. The elder smiled.

"Now you go. Ewya guide you."

Ray stood and sprinted into the jungle.

***

The sun was fully up now and Ray was walking down a steep path into an ominous valley that still lay in shadow at this hour due to its geography. The path was not well worn and grass tickled his rough feet. The venom was distorting his vision slightly, making the jungle sounds louder and colors subtly shifted hues when he looked away from them. Ray rounded a bend and stopped dead. There stood a little Na'vi girl, staring at him. Ray waved and stepped forward but she giggled and began skipping down the path at an unearthly rate. Ray ran after her.

"Hey wait, I just want to talk!"

He saw her blue tail whipping around a tree trunk and he dove off of the trail after her. After a while he stopped, she was nowhere in sight. He turned back to continue down the trail and stopped again. There stood his mother, leaning against a tree. Rays mouth went a little dry. She was not fuzzy but perfect, just as he remembered her the day before she was taken away from him. He took a few tentative steps forward.

"M-mom?"

She held out her hand and Ray slowly held out his to take it, but his hand passed through hers, and she shook her head at him sadly, dissolving into smoke that was carried swiftly away by a breeze. Ray stood in shock for a few more moments fingers still trying to grasp the hand that had been there. He shook himself, and returned to the trail. After a few more minutes he stopped again. Something was wrong.

The jungle birds had stopped singing. Carefully he pulled his bow down and notched an arrow. There was hardly any noise now, even as his large ears pivoted in all directions, searching for the telltale scrape of a large black claw on a young tree. Slowly he continued to walk backward down the trail. Every time he set his foot down he heard it.

_Step. Click. Step. Skit. Step. Rustle. Step. Crack._

And then he saw it. Silhouetted in the sunlight in the low branches of a tree not three yards from him. It hissed at him and rippled the sensory panels on its neck in a threat display. Ray took aim and shot. The beast tumbled out of the tree and he heard no more noise from the brush. Cautiously he approached the place where it had crashed to the ground. He laid the bow against the tree and pulled out his knife. The arrow was stuck in the shoulder of the first pair of legs, Ray reached out a hand to it and was about to tug it out when the corpse violently re animated and slashed a huge clawed paw at him. Ray ducked and tried to back peddle but got tripped up by a root and fell over backwards, which saved him from a spine shattering bite that snapped closed right where his neck had been. He rolled over and over, trying desperately to avoid the devastating blows the creature was flinging wildly in every direction. Finally he managed to push away and get to his feet. He dodged another pounce and he and the creature settled into a circle, the Thanator hissing and spitting, massive jaws chomping while it stalked, Rays eyes narrowed and knife gripped in the reverse hold, waving gently up and down. Words were being whispered gently in his head, slowly growing in intensity until they were a cacophony. Images flitted briefly over his vision. A pile of bodies at Santa Catarina, a young rebel, killed by his own hand in Petrograd, cold Russian snowflakes mixing with blood, An eco-saboteur, dying in his arms under the harsh light of the Martian biodomes, a combat knife handle still protruding from his chest. And finally his parents. Lying. 25th Bennet street, in front of house number 211576. Blood. Too much. Strong hands pulling him back into a sqaudcar, someone patting him on the head. Shock. Then a voice reached through the delirium.

**I have not forgotten you my child. Honor my creed and you will be free of your past.**

Ray opened his eyes wide. This needed to end. The beast pawed the ground and threw itself at him and Ray sidestepped and pushed the blade into a large vein on the creatures neck. It quivered and flailed but Ray hung on. Slowly the strength ebbed from its muscles.

"I see you brother."

Ray gave the last rites and fell back, exhausted. His side burned and he looked down. Blood dripped along a large lateral gash. Ray tried in vain to pull a bit of material off of his pant leg to apply pressure, but it was rip stop fabric, and his knife was still embedded in the beast, a distance that started to seem like miles. The poison continued to pump through his veins as he got up, and staggered over to it. Ray pulled his knife out and stared at it, forgetting what to do. Then he blacked out, and slumped onto the dead Thanator.

***

Voices. His eyes would not focus but he heard voices. Something was put in his mouth and he heard a whisper near his ear.

"Chew and swallow, it is an antidote."

Ray obliged and moved his jaw with what strength he had. His vision cleared a little. There were two blue shapes against a background of brown. It was dark, they were inside somewhere. The two figures were talking to each other in low voices.

"Will he recover?"

"He should be fine in a few days. For now you must take care of him and make sure he does not try and get up to do something foolish, like run or hunt. That would likely rip his bandages."

Ray struggled to get up but the figures looked over and one of them pushed him back down. He heard Pamtseo'Ite's voice next to him.

"Stay still Ray, this is Neytiri, you should listen to her advice."

The figure whose hands had kept Ray down spoke.

"You were lucky we found you, you would have been dead given another few hours."

Ray tried to focus his eyes and held his side, the pain of which was really starting to come to him now. It felt like a hot knife laid against his bare skin.

"We? Who is we?"

Just then another, taller figure strode in.

"How's he doing?"

Neytiri turned to the newcomer.

"He will live."

The figure bent over him and grinned.

"You have some guts, first time I saw one of those things I nearly ended up on the menu."

Ray shook his head. This wasn't happening, this couldn't possibly be...

"Jake? Jake-goddamn-Sully? Is that you?"

The figures grin widened.

"Good to meet a fellow soldier, thought I was the only one."

Another wave of pain came over Ray and he groaned, lying back, even the small exertion of talking had taxed him.

***

When Ray woke noon light was filtering in through the roots above. He sat up an pulled one knee to his chest, looking around. He was in a small alcove under a thick tangle of roots covered with leaves, small steps leading away from the room and out into the light. He heard voices and laughter coming from the doorway. Slowly he stood and walked toward it, limping a little on his right side where the bandage was. The sudden burst of sunlight almost blinded him. Pamtseo'Ite, Neytiri, and Jake were all sitting outside on the grassy forest floor, laughing over some story Jake was telling the rest of them. They looked up at his footsteps and greeted him.

"He's up! The champion returns."

Ray nodded a little blearily and joined their circle. Jake turned to him.

"Hey thought I was the only former piece of meat left on Pandora!"

Ray shook his head

"5th Asymmetrical Warfare Unit."

Jake's lips twitched in an approving smile.

"A Merc huh? Pamtseo's told me what you told her, that's pretty crazy, didn't know Qauritch had any more Avatars grown. What did he have you doing way out there by yourself?"

Ray hesitated a little. This was going to be awkward any way it was sliced.

"He wanted me to kill you."

Jakes smile faltered, and Neytiri laid her hand on the crook of her bow. Pamtseo'Ite looked shocked.

"Is this true Ray?"

Ray nodded.

"Yep. Got the order from the Colonel himself. Told me you had gone rouge, and there was a link in the Halleluiah Mountains. I was headed there when one of your loyal compatriots cut my link, and stuck me in this body."

There was a long silence. Finally Jake extended his hand.

"Well, no hard feelings then?"

Ray laughed and shook the proffered hand.

"None. Don't regret a moment of it."

Neytiri seemed to calm down a little and her fingers stopped twitching at the bow slung across her back. Ray held a hand to his side and winced a little as the effort of laughing stretched the bandages painfully.

"Bet Quaritch is going to have a lot of thinking to do on the ride home."

Jake smiled slyly.

"Oh he's not going to be thinking about anything ever again. Little quickbow here saw to that."

Ray looked over at the huntress next to Jake and stared unbelievingly.

"Seriously? Wow, good job I guess, he was a tough old bastard."

Neytiri shook her head.

"He tried to kill me, and Jake."

Ray shrugged.

"Never really liked him anyway."

Alpha Centuri AB hit its apex in the Pandoran sky and began its long descent downwards.


	7. Chapter 7

The light of Pandora's star shone down green through the canopy, casting odd dancing shadows as the wind made the leaves move. The past few days had been paradise for Ray. His dreams were untroubled, and he walked with the air of a man who has put down a weight after many years of carrying it. His wounds were coming along even better than the healers had predicted and he was back in the village, doing a little bit of everything.

"Alright now come at me with the knife overhand."

The young hunter, his face paint a little smudged swung with the wooden practice blade. Ray grabbed his wrist and paused, speaking to a small contingent of other would-be warriors, all standing back from the two in a semi circle.

"Don't fear the blade, influence it, make it your weapon. First you stop the advance by controlling the wrist. Grab the beast behind he jaws so it can't bite you."

Ray placed his right foot behind his pupil's knee joint and placed his elbow on his neck, slowly bending and pushing to the ground.

"Get his center of balance, and force him onto the ground, then twist the wrist to disarm."

Ray bent the males arm slightly and pushed the homemade dagger from his hands.

"Same with underhand, or across. Just control, unbalance and disarm."

The students grinned at one another, a little in awe of the veteran. Ray bent to pick up the dagger and a bolt of pain shot through his side.

"Agh!"

He clutched at the bandages and almost lost his footing on the smooth grass. He snatched up the blade and tucked it behind his ear, looking up to see the village healer walking towards him.

"That's it for today guys, I have to take a break."

The group quickly dispersed and the healer helped him change his bandage, scolding him all the while.

"If you keep exerting yourself it will take weeks until you can run again! I don't even know why I try at this if you just go off and split your dressings wide open again, Eywa knows its enough to make an old woman go mad!"

Ray put on a suitably apologetic expression and waited for her to finish. Afterwards he retired to his small hammock to do something that was less likely to end in being chewed out. Since he had been largely bed ridden, an ever active Pamtseo'Ite had journeyed back to the decaying human base camp and brought back all the books she could find. Ray picked out his bookmark fern frond and opened All Quiet On The Western Front, an absolutely ancient earth novel that had been required reading. Actually, when there wasn't a seven page research paper due the next day on it, it was a pretty good book. He didn't get far however, because at that moment Pamtseo'Ite slid into the hammock next to him.

"Hello there, what have you been up to?"

"Gah, nothing, I am so bored, is there anyway you can get better any faster?"

Ray laughed.

"Not if you ask the healers around here."

"What are you reading?"

"Oh, a rather depressing sky-people book. You wouldn't like it."

This of course was not any way to go about discouraging a curiosity as deep as Pamtseo'Ite's and she put a long finger on one of the words.

"Stahnaysssla-"

"Stanislaus"

"What does it mean?"

"Nothing, it's a name."

She giggled

"Oh, and how about this one?"

"_Mother_, it means sa'nok"

"What is that little dot there?"

"It's a period. It means the end of a sentence in our language."

Ray put his hand over hers and led it gently over the lines, reading the English words to her in her native tongue.

_"__ The wisest were just the poor and simple people. They knew the war to be a misfortune, whereas those who were better off, and should have been able to see more clearly what the consequences would be, were beside themselves with joy. Katczinsky said that was a result of their upbringing. It made them stupid. And what Kat said, he had thought about."_

As he read he felt the young Na'vi lay her head on his shoulder to better read the words. A slight blush crept into his cheeks but he kept reading. After a few hours Ray began to tire and he looked over. Pamtseo'Ite had gone to sleep, her hand slack in his, breath softly dampening his neck. Ray laid down the book next to them and set his head back, closing his eyes. This was better than heaven.

***

Ray woke in the wee hours of the next morning. Slowly he opened his eyes. Pamtseo'Ite was still there, though she had shifted slightly. He extricated himself carefully and sat on the branch next to her, looking out over the sleeping village, still quiet in the grey early light. A small lizard scampered over the tree limbs and stopped to snap up a small insect. It chomped its slightly glowing mouth happily, and Ray watched it for a time. He felt a gust next to him and turned to see Pamtseo'Ite sitting next to him on the branch, her extra weight bending it ever so slightly. They did not speak for a long time, simply letting the wonderful silky silence float between them. She broke the calm first.

"You should stay in bed today, the manhood ceremony is in a few days time and it would not do to still be hurt by then."

Ray nodded and rolled back into the hammock behind them.

"Want to read anymore of the book?"

She giggled quietly into her hand at the forced innocence in his smile.

"No, sorry Ray, but you see unlike you I have duties to attend to today."

Ray put on a mock sad face and she giggled even harder, pushing him playfully before turning to start her climb down. He reached back and pulled open the book, carefully finding his place.


	8. Chapter 8

_**THIS IS A FLASH BACK ABOUT RAY SET ON EARTH.**_

_**Let me just put that in massive text to avoid any possible confusion:**_

_**THIS IS A FLASHBACK.**_

_**Thought I needed something to base the current Ray off of. This is what Ray was like before the rest of the story. It isn't pretty, but then again it isn't supposed to be. **_

The troopship bay was cramped, and the seats had been designed more in mind of men about to kill or be killed rather than anything approaching leisure. Twelve other men sat cooped up, doing nothing in particular. Ray turned to his right and looked at Sanchez, who had been polishing obsessively at a small mark on his boot.

"It's a goddamn scratch man, stop pulling at it, the more you rub the more materiel comes loose."

"Oh, right."

The newest and youngest member of 1st Squad, Second chalk, 12th Battalion of the 5th Asymmetrical Warfare Unit quit polishing his boot and started drumming his fingers on the side of his gun, a noise that penetrated even the high pitched drone of the engine. After a few moments Ray turned back.

"Look. Get your shit together. Pray, meditate, smoke a goddamn joint, I don't care, but don't be so twitchy, shit like that gets you KILLED."

Sanchez flinched a little at the last word and sat bolt upright.

"Ain't that right Tito?"

Ray called across the aisle to a huge hulking aboriginal man with a medic patch on his shoulder.

"He's right. The less you twitch, the steadier your shots, the more months you survive."

Ray light a cigarette and took a deep drag. To be honest, focus was coming a little hard to him too. When he signed up the promised him he would be bursting at the seams with marketable skills when he came back. After the conclusion of one tour of duty with this man's army he had learned how to build a bridge, blow up a bridge, blow up pretty much everything else, stab people, shoot people, burn people, shoot people from long range, tell other people where the people that needed shooting, stabbing, and burning were, parachute out of a moving plane with a hundred pound rucksack full of high explosives, and dig a toilet in any environment. All in all there hadn't been much time for learning the finer points of consulting or programming. So where do you go when all you know is death and destruction? Your neighborhood RDA security office, and there were many. Ray had been hired on the spot, promoted to specialist, and placed in one of the almost innumerable parts of the US army that were on loan to the RDA.

Out the window, the jeweled coast of South America grew larger and larger. The Captain, a sinewy short European named Jack, unhooked himself from his crash webbing and stood at the front of the bay, ducking the loose rocket tubes swinging around on their hooks.

"Our objective is simple. Deploy ahead of the advance force to a villa on the coastline. This villa contains none other then your personal friend, General Alhambra."

There was a general sneering chuckle throughout the squad, and all heads turned to Ray. He raised his cigarette-laden hand in the air.

"Dibs"

The squad chuckled again and turned back to the captain.

"The downside is that while elements of the 82nd and 101st Airborne will be landing next to us, there has been little time for softening up. Flak will be heaving coming in, but after we take the mansion, the enemy should be too busy fighting the Airborne to launch a counter attack against us. We are to fortify the house, kill its occupants, and await further instruction from High Command."

Jack sat back down and strapped himself in again. Sanchez turned to Ray.

"Why did they all look at you when-"

"I used to be a private here a while back. Like you, but... not. Alhambra was on our side back then and he cut my face up good with a beer bottle when he was drunk while his goons held me down. They really didn't like us there and that was his way of getting back. He knew the RDA would never raise issue with his conduct, too many friends in high places. Well now he's the enemy ever since we declared war on Brazil, and I swear to god when I find him-"

Ray came close to the privates face and whispered the next words.

"-I am going to make him wish he was never born."

Ray sat back and took a slight measure of comfort in the shiver that ran up the newbie's back. The first boom of anti-aircraft fire sounded outside as the Brazilian batteries spotted the little drop ship and opened up with a fierce but inaccurate barrage. The Crew Chief yelled over the noise from the cockpit.

"Thirty seconds to touchdown!"

Jack stood and grabbed the overhead handle, and the rest of the squad followed suit, Ray tugging a black mask with a skull painted on it down over his eyes. The aircraft swayed a little as the pilot dodged the massive explosions and made for the cliffside. Deceleration tugged on everything in the bay and wrenches not tied down clattered onto the floor. An overhead green light blinked on and the Ramp slammed down onto the well manicured lawn. The squad pounded out and rushed towards the front door of the house, Jack motioning Ray to point as they stacked up near the huge oaken front doors. The bird lifted off and beat a hasty retreat. Ray pulled his rifle up and set one hand on the right door, Jack putting his on the left.

"Three, Two, One, Breaching Breaching Breaching!"

The squad thundered through the open doors, muzzles scanning every inch of house. They were in a large entrance hall, rows of doors to the left and right, one in the center exiting into the general's office, just as the map had shown.

"Ray, Sanchez, Gerome, on me, the rest of you start checking those rooms, remember, shoot to kill!"

Doors slammed open on either side as the soldiers breached in, there were loud screams, silenced by gunfire. Ray's group led by Jack burst through the central door, but hey were in a kitchen.

"Shit, must have been outdated plans we briefed with."

A small whimper sounded at the other end of the room.

"Ray, check that out."

Ray stalked forward, gun ready sweeping behind each massive row of cooking tables and stoves. In the last row he saw a young maid cowering over. At the sight of him she threw herself on his feet and began weeping openly, shouting something in Portuguese. Ray shoved her off and grabbed her by the collar, dragging her forcibly into the open.

"Just a civilian."

Jack regarded her for a moment.

"Shoot her. Rules of engagement specify all targets in the villa as hostile. Better yet-"

Jack pushed Sanchez forward.

"Have him do it. The FNG needs a taste of blood."

Ray grinned and turned the maid around, patting her on the back and standing her against the wall.

"Hush hush now, we can't have any of that."

She calmed a little and Ray walked back to Sanchez who was now shaking uncontrollably.

Jack light a cigarette.

"C'mon, we don't have all day, pull the goddamned trigger!"

Ray lifted Sanchez's rifle up and pulled his slack finger onto the trigger.

"Now do it. We all had to, now its your turn."

A small tear was trickling down his cheek and he was mumbling franticly.

"This- this isn't what I signed up for... I didn't-"

Ray cut him off.

"You think I signed up for this shit? You think I was any less happy-go-lucky-serve-my-country than you? NO ONE SIGNS UP FOR THIS, JUST DO IT!"

The private gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger, closing his eyes just before the moment of truth. The rifle flashed and the maid slumped over a food cart and crashed to the floor. Sanchez burst into tears and put his back to the wall, slowly sliding down it.

"Aw fuck, now he's catatonic, I TOLD you we needed better shit than this, most people just aren't cut out for the work we do."

Jack waved his hand dismissively.

"Leave him, let just find our General."

After a few more minutes of stomping through lavishly decorated rooms the trio burst into a large study, all the shutters to the windows drawn, the general sitting in a high-backed chair behind an ornate oaken desk. He jumped a little at the sight of them, but attempted to remain stolid. Jack turned to Ray.

"He's all yours. Just make sure his heart isn't beating in an hour. Those are your only orders."

Jack winked at Ray and exited, closing the door behind him.

Ray turned slowly to face the rather short and fat man who was at this point sweating profusely. He walked across the plush carpet and stopped at the edge of the desk. The general gathered his courage and tried to act indignant.

"Who are you and what is your business here?"

"Don't play dumb. It will only make this worse. You already know who we are, and what our business is, and you already know me. Personally in fact."

Ray removed the skull balaclava and threw it aside, the massive ropy scar stretching from his cheekbone to his ear thrown into harsh relief. The general winced and pushed himself farther back into the plushy chair.

"Our business is death."

Ray grabbed the squat little man and pulled him across the desk, scattering papers and sending ornaments toppling across the red carpet. He held him for a moment and then threw him to the ground.

"I'm a hell of a lot stronger than the private that got this scar two years ago. Meaner too."

The man tried to crawl away across the carpet but Ray leapt on him and pushed his knee into the small of his back. He flicked out his combat knife, a long steel blade, and turned the generals head to the side.

"Payback is a bitch."

He cut in a swift motion across the side of the screaming mans face, taking care to follow the same pattern that traced over his own. He stood and wiped the blade on his pants, the blood staining the camouflage in sickly patterns.

"Its a shame you won't have to wear that scar everywhere you go, won't have to have people point and stare at you, so I'm going to make it up to you by making the last few minutes you have on this earth a living hell."

"Oh god, oh god you're fucking crazy, somebody help me, this is a violation of the Geneva Conven-!"

***

Ray stepped out onto the balcony and light a cigarette, Jack turning and nodding to him.

"So, is it done?"

Ray took a puff and nodded silently.

"Good, I'll have someone clean it all up before the main force gets here and starts asking awkward questions."

They both stood leaning over the railing, watching the huge transport planes go over in the distance, dropping their loads of paratroopers off which floated to earth like monstrous pale jellyfish. Jack shook his head.

"War is black. Black as pitch"

"It is not a God. It does not laugh or weep."

"It rewards neither skill nor daring. It is not a trial of souls, nor the measure of wills."

"Even less is it a tool, a means to some womanish end."

"It is merely the place where the iron bones of the earth meet the hollow bones of men and break them."

Ray turned to the Captain.

"That's poetic, where'd you hear it?"

The grizzled old soldier shrugged.

"Someone somewhere. Probably dead now."

Ray turned back to watch the flak trace odd patterns in the evening sky.

"That's the way it goes I guess."

_**Yeah, I was serious when I put "Harsh language and graphic violence" in the description. Now you know what was keeping Ray up at night. Alrighty then! Back to the much less depressing jungles of Pandora.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Sorry about the long wait for an update, Finals are here and my life has been supplanted by studying, plus I didn't want to break this into a ton of little chapters.**_

The elder walked slowly into the clearing, and Ray stood up respectfully.

"Sit."

Ray sat and the old Na'vi rested on a stump in front of him.

"Your manhood ceremony is as you know, in ten days time. You must go and fulfill certain requirements beforehand. First, you must go to the fallen Hometree and carve out a branch to use as a new bow. There you will meet up with other young ones and travel to the Ikran rookery to select a steed."

Ray nodded and began to stand

"Thank you, I will accomplish this and return."

The elder held up a wrinkled hand.

"Also, you will take someone along with you. One of our young ones has reached the age of thirteen and needs to take his first trip beyond the borders of the village. He is already waiting for you."

Ray smiled and nodded but as soon as he turned away he grimaced. Babysitting. Once young boys reached a certain age they were taken outside the village in the company of another, more experienced villager to teach them how to survive in the jungle. After that they would be allowed to join hunting and scavenging parties, and run errands for the village, as Ray had been doing. Ray stopped at a massive Pandoran tree and began to climb until he reached the hollowed out space that was his. Ducking through the fabric in the opening he spotted Pamtseo'ite and a small Na'vi boy. They were laughing at something and looked up at his entrance. Pamtseo smiled.

"Ray, this is my nephew Teylu'evi."

Ray raised an eyebrow slightly

"Your nephew? Hm, thought I was just getting saddled with some random kid."

She giggled

"No you don't get off that easy"

The boy stepped forward without a hint of shyness

"When do we leave?"

"Right now, start packing."

The boy pointed to a small satchel in the corner

"I already did."

"Alright, just hang on a moment, I have to get some things together."

Pamtseo'ite walked over to Ray and kissed him on the cheek

"I'll leave you to it then."

She walked out the door and Teylu'evi giggled. Ray shot him a stern look and pulled out his BDU pants. Clipping a knife onto a loin cloth string was uncomfortable enough, and Ray was still a little sore, as his bandages had come off only a day before. He pulled his own satchel off of a shelf and threw a few foodwraps and a water skin into it. Shouldering that and his old bow, he turned back to the little Na'vi.

"Grab your pack, lets get going."

***

The jungle was getting thicker and thicker as they continued their hike towards the hometree and Alpha Centuri was right overhead, beating down or Ray's exposed neck. Teylu'evi walked along next to him, wide eyes surveying the jungle. He was a tough little bug, Ray had to give him that, but he was wearing thin on his nerves only a few hours into their journey. After another hour of walking in the heat, Ray had to call a rest.

"Alright, we're going to stop here for a second, I have to catch my breath."

Ray walked into the shade of a tree and lay against the cool roots, rubbing his tired feet in the moss. He reached into his pocket, retrieved a cigarette from a beat up pack and light it, taking a long drag. The youngster cocked his head quizzically at Ray.

"What is that?"

"It's a sky people thing."

"Can I tr-"

"No."

The child frowned a little and sat down next to him.

"Hey, listen, can you do me a big favor and not mention this to your Aunt? She hates it when I smoke."

"Okay."

There was a long pause and Ray relaxed, stretching out his muscles and enjoying a soft breeze that wafted through now and then. Next to him, his charge was getting bored and fidgety.

"Pamtseo loves you doesn't she?"

Ray choked a little on the cigarette and a soft wisp of smoke trickled from his nose.

"That's kind of a personal question, isn't it?"

Teylu'evi smiled

"I knew it."

"Hey, I didn't say yes."

The child grinned even wider

"You didn't say no either."

Ray shook his head and stubbed the cigarette out, putting the butt in his pocket.

"Alright, breaks over, lets go."

Slowly he got to his feet and located his pack.

"She is always acting funny when someone mentions you, it is all I can do not to laugh."

Ray rolled his eyes

"You're not along on this little expedition to talk about my love life, you're here to learn, and that involves listening, which involves being quiet."

"Okay, okay, fine."

The hours continued uneventfully, the sun moving lower and lower in the sky. At last, when it was almost dark the two came to the crest of a small hill and Teylu'evi spotted the massive fallen trunk off in the distance, looking like a gently sleeping giant.

"Look! There it is!"

"Where? I don't se- Oh my god. That thing is huge!"

Ray had heard stories told about the hometree of course, but nothing prepared you for seeing it with your own eyes. at one end of the tree jagged burned roots were stuck high into the air, already covered with moss, ferns, and other new growth. The trunk itself stretched for ages along the forest floor, terminating finally in a huge tangled canopy that was drooping a little now, but still green.

"Jesus H. Christ..."

Ray stared at the titanic tree for almost a full minute before he felt someone tugging at his pant leg.

"Lets go, C'mon!"

"Uh-uh, sorry kid, it'll be dark in a few minutes, and we need to find a tree to get up before the sun goes down. That's lesson number one out here in the forest. Don't go out at night, because the viper wolves will tear you into little blue confetti."

"But the hunting parties travel by night!"

"Because they have viper-wolf repellant, special pheromones and whatnot. We don't, and if we tried to mosey through to that tree now we wouldn't get one mile without running into at least one. And once you run into one, the whole pack is on you in an instant. No, we're going to play it safe tonight."

The child nodded and Ray began looking around. The trees immediately surrounding them were new and scraggly, but after some search he found an older sapling that extended up into the canopy. Quickly, he scrambled up into the branches and motioned for Teylu'evi to follow. Ray perched himself on a high branch and pulled out a big coil of rope. He spent the next few minutes weaving the strand back and forth between two branches, making a sort of soft netting that they could sleep on.

"Alright, wake me up if you hear something trying to get up to us okay?"

The child looked at Ray, a little frightened

"No, look, its not likely, I'm just saying, IF, you know?"

Not looking comforted in the slightest the child nodded and turned over in the makeshift hammock. Ray lay down on the other end and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

***

He woke early the next morning. Some habits died hard. It was not yet light out and the gas giant Polyphemus was moving along on its intricate and complicated orbit of the star system, it's massive permanent storm spinning silently across the blue ether. Gradually Alpha Centuri A peeked out over the horizon and the first fingers of grey light shut off the forest's bioluminescence. Ray shook a slumbering Teylu'evi awake.

"Come on, I want to get there before noon."

The child nodded sleepily and Ray coiled back up the rope, slid down the tree, and continued their journey. Slowly the massive trunk grew nearer and nearer, and they finally laid fingers on it just before the star reached its height.

Even in death it towered over them, splintered branches littering the massive clearing cut by it's fall. Teylu'evi climbed around on the lower branches, while Ray looked for a suitably shaped piece of wood. Most of them were just splinters, to big, to small, or the wrong shape. Finally, when Ray was about to call it quits, a branch sticking out of the tree trunk about six feet above him caught his eye. He jumped for it, but came short by a lot. He stood back and took a running leap, grasping the branch with one hand. He brought up his other hand and shook it wildly, trying to break it lose, but it was new growth, and all he did was shake his own legs, which were dangling a good four feet off of the ground. After hanging for a while, he tried to reach around for his knife, but his grip slipped and he fell off. Cursing and picking leaves off of his back he looked back up at the stubborn branch, grinding his teeth in frustration.

"Need some help?"

Ray yelped in surprise and unsheathed his knife, swinging around to face... An adolescent male Na'vi, standing with his hands on his hips with and a slightly mocking smile on his face.

"Jesus man, don't sneak up on people like that!"

Ray returned the knife to it's sheath and turned back to the solitary branch.

"Yeah, now that you mention it, I could use a bit of help. You are?"

The young stranger grinned

"Hufwe'Itan. You must be RayFletcher, I was told you would be here."

Ray leaned over slightly to look behind Hufwe'Itan.

"Aren't there supposed to be more with you?"

"Yes, they are gathering food."

"Who's leading the group?"

"I am."

Ray cocked an eyebrow and Hufwe frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing, just thought someone with, ah, more summers on their back would be accompanying us to-"

Hufwe'Itan cut him off curtly.

"Well you were mistaken."

Ray shrugged.

"Alright, well, can you give me a boost up? I need to get to that branch."

With Hufwe'Itan's help Ray sawed the offending limb off and dropped to the ground.

"Perfect."

***

Ray trudged along with the rest of the group, Hufwe'Itan leading them through the jungle. They had been a non-stop source of questions ever since it had been revealed that he was a dreamwalker.

"What is your birth-village called?"

"New Jersey."

"What does it look like?"

"Crowded, smelly, lots of people who want to hurt you."

The day wore on and in the distance Ray could make out the grey flecks that were the Iknimaya, or floating mountains. Teylu'evi let out a massive yawn and almost stumbled over his own feet. Ray looked down at him.

"Hey, hold on a little longer okay? Just a few more hours until sunset."

Ray suspected that the child was operating with the fewest hours of sleep possible for a kid of his age. One of the taller Na'vi near Ray laughed.

"I have a little brother just like him, full of energy right up until it is time for sleep. Then, he drops like a log."

Ray nodded.

"I didn't have any siblings growing up."

"A lot of us don't either."

"Why not?"

The youth shrugged.

"No need to bring more mouths into Eywa's forest than needed. Two is usually the most. People only have three children when times are hard and many have died."

Ray scratched his chin absentmindedly

"Like now."

The tall Na'vi stared at him thoughtfully

"It is strange to think that we could have ended up trying to kill each other."

Ray frowned a little

"I guess."

"Why are your people so destructive? We could have had a great kinship, your race and ours."

Ray shook his head.

"If you saw our history you wouldn't say that. The annals of mankind are written in blood. We didn't really have an Eywa, not a real one at any rate. There was nothing we could fall back on, so we fell upon each other."

He turned to the adolescent

"We aren't a kind race. We think too much and too fast for our own good. We forget easily, we want everything now, right now, we don't think about later, and we kill and destroy everything that steps in our way."

Ray turned back to face the trail and ducked under a low branch.

"It's better this way."

Slowly, Alpha Centuri sank below the tree line.

***

Early the next morning Hufwe'Itan went around, waking everyone up, much to their annoyance. Sleepy Na'vi yawned and pulled satchels onto their backs. Hufwe'Itan walked over to Ray and tossed something long and green into his lap. Ray held it up inquisitively.

"What's this?"

Hufwe'Itan smirked

"A bolas. Catching Ikran is rather hard without it."

After a few minutes everyone had their things together and the march began again. The mountains seemed close enough to touch by late morning, massive balls of rock covered with green plants and moss. The forest gave way to grassy plains and they continued their trek to the base of the nearest earthly rock. Hufwe'Itan pointed skywards.

"We will climb this peak and the roots will lead us up to the rookery there."

Ray looked at the locations his finger was pointing and felt his stomach drop a little. Heights were not his forte. About a mile from the mountain a grey cloud front that had been tailing them for a while caught up to the party and warm rain fell. It was nothing like rain on Earth. On Pandora, there were only two seasons, a long hot summer and a colder monsoon season which had just begun. Ray grinned as the sun-warmed droplets pelted them, washing away all the dirt and pollen of the long trip. He looked down abruptly as his feet transitioned from grass to rock. After another few hundred yards the walk turned into a climb. It was fairly easy going, as constant wind, rain, and other Na'vi had worn plenty of handholds into the rock. Around midday they rested on a large pleatau and ate. The summit was in sight, just a few dozen more holds up the side of the cliff face. It wasn't really a cliff, the angle was much less steep the most mountains on earth, but a fall would still be catastrophic. After taking a few bites of a foodwrap, Ray put it back in his pack and lay head down on the mossy stone, enjoying the feeling of rain on his face. He didn't get to relax for long however, because after a few minutes, Hufwe'Itan was prodding him with a cold toe.

"Come, it is almost impossible to navigate these rocks at night, and night is fast approaching."

Ray rolled his eyes and reluctantly followed him. He had a lot of boss in him for someone so young. The party continued the climb, and Ray was the last over the edge as they crested the summit. Hufwe'Itan pointed to a massive tangle of roots that spanned the chasm between the summit and the next rock.

"Be careful, there is nothing to stop you if you fall."

"Great, like we needed reminding."

Hufwe'Itan ignored his comment and strode boldly off onto the sloping bridge, the rest following suit a little more hesitantly. Teylu'evi turned but Ray put a hand on his head.

"Trust me kiddo, if you look down you won't be able to walk the rest of the way."

Ray hazarded a peek down himself and winced. It was a lot worse than it looked from the ground. The light green meadow surrounding the outcropping of rocks gave way to the forest of the jungle, and he could just make out the hometree in the distance. It was breathtaking, but it scared the shit out of him at this same time. He looked straight ahead, a little paler.

After what seemed like eons the group was at the even-smaller top of the floating boulder. There was a small grotto here, a few small trees with deep roots in the rock and a little pool of collected rainwater sat reflecting the cloudy sky. There was no time to stop and admire, and Hufwe'Itan pushed them forward onto the next root bridge, this one a good deal bigger than the last, and leading up a dizzying height. Ray couldn't see the end as the bridge faded into the grey clouds. He tried to relax and followed the others onto it, climbing up and up and up until he thought surely they must have departed the atmosphere. Ahead of him the rest of the group disappeared one by one into the cloud, and Ray hesitated for a moment. Teylu'evi tugged at his arm. Ray sighed and plunged headlong into the mist. There was a panicky few seconds when moisture coated his skin and he couldn't see his hand in front of his face, and then, light.

He emerged through the top of the cloud cover into dazzling sunlight. A short walk ahead the root bridge terminated in a small cavern in the side of a massive floating chunk of stone. He could already hear the distant cries of the Mountain Banshee's. Looking around he saw other floating peaks, some dipped in the grey ocean of cloud, and some floating on the peak of the magnetic field that held them there, suspended in pure blue. It was almost like some surreal picture of heaven, and Ray was sure he would have stood and stared for the rest of his life if Teylu'evi had not tugged his arm again.

"Come on Ray, this is making me nervous."

He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off of the scenery and walked forward into the cave. The rest of the group was assembled in the natural stone room, and he could see light just around the bend in the tunnel. They set their satchels down and pulled out bolas'. Hufwe'Itan pointed to Ray.

"You will go last. Observe the others carefully."

As the group approached the exit of the cavern the noise intensified. Shrieks and calls echoed through the cave, and when they exited into the sunlight the sound was almost deafening. They were standing on one side of a circular "arena", thousands of Ikran nesting on eggs, fighting over scraps of food, or taking off into the open air. The whole thing was shaped like a massive bowl, with a smaller hill of rock in the middle. Hufwe'Itan motioned for Teylu'evi to stay back. One by one the the others waded into the mass of banshees and after a brief scuffle somewhere, emerged victorious, bonded to one of the four winged animals. At last it was Ray's turn. He grasped his bolas, throat completely dry, and began to walk slowly through the crowd of animals. They shifted for him as he passed, eyeing him warily, some hissing and scooting their clutches of eggs away from him with a wing. It seemed like an eternity, walking among the din of screeches and cries, waiting for that one that would not back away. After a few minutes he looked back at Hufwe'Itan and shrugged. The male Na'vi looked slightly amused for about a second, and then his expression changed to wide eyed shock. Ray say the shadow a second before the bony wing struck him across the back of the head. He tumbled away a few feet and pushed himself up, staggering and fighting against the black on the edges of his vision.

"What the fuck?!"

His shout was swallowed up by the noise. The offending Ikran stood a few feet from him, green and blue back tensed, eyes regarding him scornfully. Ray whipped his coiled rope open and advanced slowly on it, circling it carefully. The creature kept turning, presenting it's front to him constantly. Ray gritted his teeth and decided to go for it. As suddenly as he could, he whipped out and tried to wrap his arms around the Banshee's neck. He stumbled, and it was the only thing that saved him from another massive sweeping blow. Ray desperately wriggled around on the rocks, dodging the cruel teeth that were snapping inches from his head. The Ikran withdrew a little, and then thrust its open mouth at him once more, with more vigor and speed. Ray dodged the swipe and grabbed the exposed neck, jumping on it with his whole weight. Wings battered don on him as he struggled to get the noose around the Banshee's mouth, and slip his queue into the appropriate place. A bit of blood trickled from his scalp and blinded his right eye, and he was doggedly trying to stay conscious. At last the little nerve endings connected and they both froze. A warm prescience slipped into the very back of his mind, and he felt the blows cease. It was at once the weirdest and most awe-inspiring thing in the world. He stared out of four eyes, his own, and the strange, predatory gaze of the Ikran, which was suffused with odd colors and extended into spectrums that could not be described in any language. Exhausted and limping slightly, he sat astride the Ikran and uttered one word.

"Go."

The beast tensed and launched itself towards the blue sky, Ray hanging on for dear life. They made a few laps of the rookery and then landed next to the rest of the new riders, who were smiling broadly. Even Hufwe'Itan, looking a little annoyed atop his own steed, spared him a short, approving nod.

"Good, now we must return, for the hour is late. I trust you can find your own way home, RayFletcher?"

"Be a pretty poor Omaticaya, if I couldn't."

Ray picked his satchel up from the ground and motioned Teylu'evi to join him on the back of the banshee.

"Wrap your arms around me and hold on, your aunt would never forgive me if I dropped you."

At his direction the Ikran stood at the lip of the bowl. He turned and waved to the others before leaning low over his steed's ear.

"Take us home"

The Banshee launched itself over the edge of the floating rock, plummeting in a barely controlled dive through open air. The clouds had dissipated, and Alpha Centuri was about to set. A shout of pure joy was torn from Ray's mouth by the rushing wind.

_**Thanks for reading, stay tuned for more!**_


	10. Chapter 10

(A/N: Sorry about the tardy update, hope you guys can forgive me, but then again, better late than never. Don't give up on me, I write updates as often as my schedule allows, and with summer impending idle hands will no doubt drift to the keyboard and pound some more out. Thank you for reading, and don't forget to review.)

Ray stumbled between the trees, almost tripping himself on several massive roots. The sun had retreated below the horizon and bathed the world in a fiery orange glow. It was his favorite time of day on Pandora, just before the bioluminescent jungle flickered to life and all the nastier predators came out. The manhood ceremony had taken a lot out of him, and all he wanted right now was to find a nice place to rest before returning to the village.

A small niche in the gnarled roots of an ancient tree beckoned, and Ray slid down into it. The bark wasn't like bark on earth, it was smooth and yielding, despite it's appearance. He stretched, and closed his eyes.

He was on the very cusp of sleep when a whisper of air blew past him. He opened one eyelid and smiled.

"You're good Pamtseo, but not that good."

There was a giggle behind him and another blue figure slipped down from behind a tree trunk. Ray scooted over to give her room.

"How did you find me?"

"It wasn't hard. You left a trail wider than an _Angtsik_."

Ray rolled his eyes and leaned back. There was a long silence, and then Pamtseo spoke.

"You have completed the manhood ceremony, which means you have the right to choose a female."

Ray propped himself up on his elbows and leaned in close to her. Pamtseo reciprocated and their lips met. They broke off for one second and Ray whispered softly to her.

"Was there every any doubt?"

Pamtseo'ite giggled, and there was a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"No. I had you marked down from day one."

Ray grinned and kissed her fiercely. Their bodies entwined and rolled off of the log and onto the forest floor. They lay there for a few moments, embracing one another, and then their queues met and entangled, and Ray's world was blasted away on a heady wave of pleasure. It was more intense than anything he had ever experienced, and his memory of the next few hours was blurred.

Fletcher drifted through a world of deep sleep. Memories and visions from his new mate's life drifted across his minds eye. Pamtseo playing in the thick undergrowth, laughing and trying to catch the other children. Then she was older, whittling chunks of off a thick branch in the fading light of the massive gas giant that drifted overhead in the sky.

Pamtseo'ite saw in her sleep the image of a quiet, serious boy with dark hair and glasses, dragging a bag of books home from school, down a cracked sidewalk and towards an old house with faded paint, the letters hanging off in places. Next he was sitting in a white office, another stern looking human handed him a sheaf of paper crowded with words, and after a long moment, she saw him sign it. The man nodded approvingly and pocketed the paper. "You're doing your country a great service son, you should be proud."

Ray's dreams drifted to visions of the young Na'vi girl on her first hunt, the smells and textures of the memory more apparent than anything as she weaved gracefully through the upper branches of a tree, bow slung across her back and her mark racing through the brush below. She leapt up suddenly and let fly with the arrow, felling her target.

Pamtseo saw a young human, stubble beginning to form on his chin, sweat dripping down his forehead as he marched down a street, weapon resting in his hands, under the intense stare of local children, who watched him apprehensively. There was a bang and they all threw themselves to the ground. Cracks and whistles filled the air and the children fled into the alleyways and backdoors, while the soldiers picked themselves up and fired back.

Ray woke with a start. It was still dark, and Pamtseo was lying on the soft earth next to him, her chest rising and falling gently. He turned away and sat on a branch just off the ground, his legs dangling in the cold light of the heavenly bodies, spinning slowly above them in the night sky like ghostly dancers.

Silently, Pamtseo alit upon the tree-limb next to him and laid a hand on his. Ray turned to her and smiled. She returned the look and laid down sideways on the branch, resting the side of her head on his knees and letting her hair fall down his legs. Ray was the first to break the calm.

"Do you think we should go back to the village?"

"We should stay until morning. Eywa protects us."

Ray laid a hand on her shoulder and felt her smooth skin underneath his hands.

"I was hoping you would say that."

(A/N: Forgive me if it was a little awkward, this is the closest to lemon I've ever gone without going over the edge entirely. R and R.)


	11. Chapter 11

(A/N: What's up people, just another update, tell your friends! Oh, right, and now I will remind you that reviews are appreciated. No really, the word appreciated doesn't do it justice, I actually enjoy getting those on primal level. Makes me all fuzzy inside, and, if it's constructive, I write better/more to your tastes in future additions.)

The day had seemingly flew by for Ray. After doing their daily duties around the village, they had slipped off by themselves and spent the rest of the day high in a tree, looking out over the massive canopy that moved gently back and forth in the wind, like a huge green ocean.

Pamtseo had discovered that they could share memories in vivid detail with their queues, and they had spent the afternoon watching scenes from Ray's childhood and eating the large red fruits that grew in between the branches. The young Na'vi was fascinated by Earth and how he had lived before he came to Pandora. Ray chuckled through a mouthful of fruit. It was odd, seeing himself running around, no older than grade school.

The images faded and Pamtseo giggled.

"Was that your father?"

"Yeah, that was my dad."

"You look like twins!"

This took Ray a little aback, but when he though about it he realized that he and his dad had shared a lot in common. Pamtseo rolled the seed pit from her fruit around in the palm of her hand.

"Why do you have no memories of yourself when you are older?"

Ray kicked himself mentally

"Well, its ah- not so much that I don't, more that, they're not, well, they're not much to remember. It was a pretty low point in my life."

"But it led you here, did it not?"

Ray shrugged

"The military life was pretty much all I knew. It was an accident, a complete accident that I got caught up in it."

Pamtseo'ite took his hand

"I want to see all of your life Ray, it doesn't all have to be wonderful. That's the whole point of having a life."

Ray grinned sheepishly. It never ceased to amaze him how wonderfully simply his mate could state things, without any of the needless words that humans instinctively tacked on. He took their queues and joined them.

"This is just before I came here."

A swirl of un-intelligible light and color surrounded them, then the memory intensified and took form. Blurs of light coalesced and Ray began to hear the sound thundering through his ears. Orange balls of flame detonated all around him, throwing up roiling infernos on the trees they touched. His human body felt weak and slow, the ground, soft and spongy as he scrabbled over it and into shallow trenches overgrown with vines. For two whole minutes, Ray simply covered his head and trembled as the shockwaves blasted just over his head. He could make out shouts and sometimes screams over the din. Finally, the cacophony began to slow, and eventually stop altogether.

Cautiously, the young mercenary pulled himself out of the hole and emerged into what appeared to be a moonscape. The lush, Venezuelan mangroves that had been there just a moment before was vaporized out of existence, almost every square inch of ground was pitted and the surface had acquired a thin layer of glass. Out of another foxhole next to him, his commanding officer, Jack, pushed himself to his feet and called across the clearing.

"Sound off!"

"One okay!"

"Two okay!"

"Three okay!"

"Four okay!" Ray shouted

"Five okay!"

There was a long pause. Jack looked apprehensive.

"Six, are you there? Bletchley!"

The rest of the Reconnaissance squad pulled themselves out and onto the nightmarish patch of devastation that had swept the forest floor clean of all life. A faint whimper drifted out from a crater near the tree line and made them all spin around.

"Bletchley? Bletchley! Jesus Christ! Corporal, get the medic bag up here right now!"

Private Bletchley lay slumped over the lip of a humongous hole blasted out of the ground. Most of his body was badly burned and even as his eyes stared into the distance in shock, a moan escaped his lips. Blood dripped from a jagged cut on his forehead. The rest of the squad gathered around him in almost reverent silence and straightened him out gently until he lay spread eagle on the smooth glass. Jack murmured silently across to the medic.

"Will he make it?"

The large aboriginal man shook his head slightly.

"He's already in shock, even if I could stabilize him, he'd need to be airlifted immediately, and we're a day's walk from the nearest field hospital."

The medic's huge fingers were surprisingly graceful as he extracted a syringe, filled it with an overdose of painkiller, and administered it silently. The private, a young farm boy from Idaho, who Ray had just met yesterday, stopped struggling and closed his eyes one last time.

In the quiet that followed, only a few birds chirped tentatively. Jack took off his helmet wearily and scratched the stubble.

"Those were hyper-velocity rounds, there must be a rail gun battery somewhere, which means someone down in that town is spotting for them. We should get the hell out of here before they reload."

The sun was setting by the time they approached the village. In the fading light, they could see the massive artillery guns flash as they fired. Jack peeked over the lip of an embankment that traveled all the way down to the small town. There was a church and a few dozen wooden houses, squatted on a stream that had longs since dried up, the smooth rocks and pebbles littered all over the hillside.

"How many do you see Fletcher?" Captain Jack hissed.

Ray squinted and tried to count the number of flashes, but they were too irregular.

"I'd say six, maybe seven guns, parked about a mile beyond the edge of the town."

"We need to take those damn things out, they're giving our boys down the valley a hell of a time."

The squad edged down the slope, guns raised, eye's straining in the blackness. The flashes got brighter as they got closer, and after every boom, a second sun would flicker momentarily, illuminating their surroundings enough to move by. They were almost to the first row of houses when a group of figures began moving perpendicular to them along the border of the town, backs bent low.

"Hey, HEY- Stop, put your hands up!" The Captain yelled

The shout had no effect, except maybe that the group took a look towards them and broke into a run. Jack grimaced and raised his assault rifle.

"They're spotters, wipe 'em out!"

The squad's surroundings echoed as they opened up, fingers jammed down on triggers and spent shell casings hit the dirt around their feet. The machine gunner crouched and fired, and a teeth-rattling chatter filled the air as bullets whizzed and snapped downrange.

The figures that were now sprinting back towards the village started to tumble, tripping over their own dead and falling still into the soft, loamy soil. Images of Bletchley, staring blankly at something none of them could see drifted across his field of vision. He found himself grinding his teeth as his rifle burned through its magazine, spitting round after round into the backs of the mob.

Jack blinked and shook his head, like a man coming out of a daze. He looked left and right at the squad, who were still shooting like madmen.

"Stop it, stop, cease fire goddamnit, you're just wasting ammo!" The captain yelled, waving a gloved fist. Reluctantly, they stopped shooting.

"Clear it out!" Jack hissed, motioning his men forward.

They approached the area slowly, their footsteps crunching on the gravel. The strobe-like illumination from the artillery provided an eerie ambiance as they came upon the corpses. Ray bent down and examined one of them. Something was wrong.

"Ah, Cap?" Another Private spoke up

"What?" Jack said distractedly

"These guys don't have any uniforms. Some of them are women."

None of them said anything for a while. Ray stood up shakily and backed away from the site of the massacre. He sat down on a tree stump and tried not to look at the bodies. For once, he had no idea what he was supposed to feel or think. The carnage in front of him was a profound departure from sanity. A little patch of hell, spilled over onto some godforsaken mangrove forest in the middle of nowhere. He tried to make his hands stop trembling, but it was no good.

In the distance, the guns continued their constant _whump-whump-whump_. A shadow fell across his face and he looked up to see Jack, extending his hand. Ray took it and the wiry captain pulled him upright.

"Let me give you some advice Fletcher." Jack said in a low voice "Take all the things you've seen, take all the days like today, and put them in a shoebox. Kick that shoebox into some dark corner, and don't ever open it."

Ray took a deep breath and picked up his rifle. The captain gave a faint smile.

"Good man. Now, everybody get your asses moving, we have a gun battery to silence."

The crunching of leaves underfoot faded out and were gradually replaced by the quiet rustling of the Pandoran jungle and the distant calls of animals. Ray sat up and sighed. Pamtseo opened her eyes next to him.

"You did not tell me about any of that."

It wasn't an accusatory statement, just a matter of fact.

"I didn't think you wanted to know. I thought you got your fill that first night at the tree of souls."

"I didn't see much, just bits and pieces."

She sat up and scooted over next to him.

"If something bothers you, now or ever, just tell me."

They spent the rest of the day looking at happier memories.


	12. Chapter 12

There was a saying back in Jersey, Ray mused. It went something along the lines of: "Don't bite off more than you can chew.". A year and a half on Pandora had obviously made him forget this advice, and he was now paying for it. When the local medicine woman had asked for volunteers to watch the younglings while she was out gathering supplies, Ray had immediately accepted. As it turns out, Na'vi children were every bit as boisterous at seven as their human counterparts. He had spent a whole day keeping them out of trouble, and now he was exhausted. When the smiling old woman had finally returned with a basket of herbs, Ray had simply smiled, nodded, left, and despaired over whether the streak of yellow paint that had been splashed across his hand would ever come off.

Wearily he climbed up one of the massive trees that made up the village and entered his small abode. He was just about to sit down and fall asleep when a voice from the corner made him jump.

"Hello Ray."

He turned and saw Jake Sully lean forward out of the shadows.

"Oh, uh, hi." He muttered in English "Didn't know you were going to be dropping by."

"Neither did I, but something's come up."

"What happened?"

"The water has gone bad."

Ray frowned "Bad?"

"Yep. The river that gives us all of our fresh drinking water is... well, you really have to see it for yourself. It's gone a funny color and people who drink it are getting sick."

"You're serious? But I thought the RDA left Pandora for good?"

Jake shook his head

"If you want my opinion, I think that there's a storehouse or dump up north and it's leaking into the water table. Normally I would go up and deal with it myself, but the Omaticaya have been busy relocating and we need every hand available. You're the only other person that I know of who knows how to handle human machinery."

"So you want me to find the leak?"

"And shut it off. Do whatever it takes Ray, we can survive on rainwater for now, but Eywa knows what kind of damage a toxic spill could cause, especially here."

Their conversation was interrupted as Pamtseo'ite strode in, carrying a gourd of water in her hands. She beamed when she saw Jake.

"Jake Sully! You are most welcome here."

Sully smiled and nodded appreciatively.

"I'll be out of your way in just a minute. Actually- Pamtseo, would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Not at all." Pamtseo said

Ray bent over the fast moving stream and dipped a finger in it tentatively. He tasted it briefly and then spat it out.

"It's getting stronger, and so is the color."

Pamtseo examined the water closely and skimmed a hand over the odd orange sheen that floated on the surface. Her face was a mask of anger.

"How could they do this? Even after everything, the sky people still torment us!"

She shot a glance at Ray and softened her expression.

"I mean, of course the-"

Ray waved a hand

"It's fine. We deserve it. Humans have an unfortunate habit of thinking more about the wealth and less about the people who live on top of it."

Before midday the had reached the edge of the massive forest. The thick jungle gave way to massive plains covered with grass, sweeping away before them and downwards towards the foothills of the mighty Halleluiah Mountains in the distance, casting their shadows over the savanna like rocky clouds. A river ran between the jagged peaks, the waterfall's roaring carrying over the sound of the wind rustling through the grass.

In the far distance, nestled next to the rock, Ray could see a scar on the land. A large cement structure, almost like a bunker sat crouched near the river, and there was a large patch of brown grass surrounding it. Ray pointed this out to Pamtseo.

"That must be it."

"It's a long way off. Come, we will eat first."

They flattened a small clearing in the waist high grass and sat down. Ray unslung his satchel and rummaged in it, finding the rations he had packed himself earlier. The sun had not yet risen entirely, and they were bathed in shade. They ate in relative silence, Ray actually finding himself a little glad to be out in the open. The forest was nice, but it grew claustrophobic sometimes. A rustle outside their circle of brush made him freeze, foodwrap in one hand, the other straying to his knife handle. A short snout poked its way into the clearing and soon after the first four legs of a stocky Tapirus, a squat herbivore that was a common sight in the jungle.

It's feelers brushed Ray's sleeve tentatively, beady eyes regarding the meal in his hands. Pamtseo'ite giggled.

"I think he wants some."

Ray broke off a small piece and held it out to the creature. A long tongue snapped the piece up into it's mouth and there was a crunching sound. After a few seconds, the creature looked at him again, expectantly. Pamtseo was almost beside herself with laughter. Ray waved a hand in the creatures face.

"Shoo. Go away, I don't have any more for you."

The Tapirus, as if sensing his intent, gave a disgruntled _**Hrmph**_and sidled back into the sea of tall grass.

After finishing their food, the journey began again, and by the time they reached the foot of the mountains, Alpha Century A was set to disappear over the horizon behind them, the swaying grasses casting shadows on the fence of the compound as they approached. The river splashed and eddied over the ruins of a hydro-electric dam, the massive concrete barrier reduced to rubble by lack of maintenance. A massive pipe ran from the side of the dam to the mine building, and from it's rusted underside a small stream of bright orange coolant was leaking.

"Aha!" Ray said.

He quickly dashed over to it and spotted a large valve. The thing was corroded and refused to give way when he pulled.

"Pamtseo, help me."

His mate joined him and after a few seconds of straining they heard a squeak.

"I think it's coming loose!" Ray exclaimed happily.

Then there was a crack and they tumbled backwards as the valve came clean off. The flow of sludge increased a little, and Ray threw the useless scrap of metal into the river in frustration. He sat back on the ground and tried to think of another way to stop the flow. His eyes drifted to the dark entrance to the mine elevator.

"I bet you anything they store that nasty stuff down in the mine."

Pamtseo'ite nodded in agreement and they helped Ray to his feet. Ray gave the metal doors of the elevator a push and they fell inwards, the hinges succumbing to corrosion. The doors tumbled down into the elevator shaft and Ray counted a whole five seconds before the faint clatter sounded from deep inside the shaft. The trolley was apparently at the bottom, but the cord attached to it sat directly in front of him. Ray motioned to it and bowed a little.

"After you good lady."

Pamtseo reached out and grabbed the cable with both hands, swinging her body out over the black abyss. Slowly, she began to slide down and out of sight, and Ray hurried to follow her. They descended down for what seemed like hours, although it was probably only a few minutes. The warm evening light that filtered through the entrance was now a small square high above their heads, growing fainter and fainter as they went down. Finally, Ray's feet brushed the top of Pamtseo's hair and he stopped. In the gloom he could see a metal door cut into the side of the shaft, left ajar. From the small glass window he could see the blue light of a computer monitor on. Pamtseo swung the cable back and forth, building up momentum. At the arc of the swing, she jumped, pushing the door aside and landing with a catlike grace inside the hallway. Ray jumped after her and landed on the metal ledge. There was a groan and the ledge gave way beneath him. His arms grasped for a second, clinging desperately to the sides of the entrance before strong arms pulled him back from the brink.

Ray leaned against the wall and let out a deep breath. He gave Pamtseo's hand a squeeze.

"Thank you."

The young Na'vi simply smiled and they continued towards the source of the light together. They were in a long hallway, the door to the elevator behind them. Two doors were put into the makeshift metal walls on either side of them. Ray twisted the handle of the one marked "Pumping Room" and, with some effort, managed to force it open. A cascade of cardboard boxes fell away from the door as he entered and was momentarily blinded by the glare issuing from the computer monitor. He approached it and examined the screen.

A green display showed a detailed diagram of pipes, zigzagging their way through the mine, the largest of which exited onto the surface. A little red marker pointed to it, and the words: RUPTURE/CRITICAL PRESSURE LOSS flashed faintly. Ray reached out a hand and tapped the red section of pipe. The diagram turned grey, then green, as the computer closed off the flow. Ray looked up at Pamtseo'ite , who was closely examining a booklet she had picked up off the cluttered floor.

"I think I did it."

Pamtseo looked puzzled

"That's it?"

"I'm pretty sure. We just have to climb back out and see if-"

Ray was interrupted mid-sentence by a tone from the computer. Looking back, he saw new text scrolling across the screen.

POWER PLANT ACTIVATED/SYSTEM REBOOTING

DAM SUBSTATION RUNNING AT 3% CAPACITY/SEVERE ROTOR DAMAGE

STARTING UP EMERGENCY GENERATOR

In the distance Ray heard a gasoline engine sputter and the lights all turned on at once. Momentarily blinded, the pair of them stubled back. After a few seconds their eyes adjusted to the harsh light and Ray looked back at the screen. More words were appearing as he watched, this time in red.

COOLANT PUMP OVERFLOW/COOLANT TANK OVERPRESSURE WARNING

FUEL RESIVOIR LEAK/GASOLINE CONTAMINATION WARNING

A little yellow light next to the console flicked on, and Ray could hear a deep rumbling. Overhead, a bit of dust trickled from the ceiling, followed by a steady drip of orange fluid. The crack widened, and the drip became a flow. Ray backed up, and grabbed Pamtseo's arm.

"Come on, we're getting out of here!"

Pamtseo didn't need to be told twice. They jumped over the stack of boxes and slammed the door behind them. The coolant seeped under the door and followed them as they dashed down the corridor towards the elevator, which was now sitting open ahead of them. They threw themselves in and Ray punched the button marked _Surface level_. The dolly sped upwards at a reasonable clip, and Ray almost breathed a sigh of relief.

This was cut short however, as a massive shudder went through the shaft, and below them a large fire flashed into existence, fed by a gas leak somewhere far underneath their feet. The smoke began to rise on the hot air and soon Pamtseo and Ray were gasping for breath. The chink of blue dusk light at the top drew closer and closer, but the lights suddenly flickered and the elevator ground to a halt.

Panic began to grip Ray and he looked around desperately for a way out. His eyes fell upon the roof exit, and he quickly unlatched it. He climbed out and helped Pamtseo clamber onto the roof of the car. The heat was much more stifling now, the smoke curling around their legs like a grey ghost, trying to pull them back down. Pamtseo pulled herself up onto the surface doorway and motioned for Ray to follow. He took a few steps back and lept up, grabbing the edge of the doorframe and hauling himself out. They both emerged into the, raggad lungs taking big gasps of fresh air. Behind them, the elevator cable gave a groan and Ray whipped his head around just in time to see the thin metal cord snap, and send the whole elevator sliding down towards the inferno below. Ray grabbed Pamtseo, and tried to run but tripped over his own feet.

He was out of options. Ignoring his screaming muscles, he threw himself on top of his mate, just as the elevator slammed into the flaming gas pocket at the bottom of the shaft.

There was a split second of calm, and then a massive explosion ripped through the concrete and sent chunks flying in all directions. Ray felt heat, intense heat, flaring all across his back, and then the fireball threw him like a doll and he blacked out.

Pamtseo picked herself up off of the ground and brushed a clod of dirt off of her cheek. The grass surrounding what used to be the human structure was flattened, and chunks of concrete lay everywhere. The jagged shard of pipe stuck out of the ground, no more poison was coming from it. A column of fire rose from the ground and into the air, sending waves of heat outwards.

"Ray? Ray!" She cried out.

There was no answer.

Desperately she searched around the rubble until she spotted an arm sticking out. Pamtseo ran to the pile of grey rock and dug through it, concern for her mate etched in every corner of her brain. Ray lay still, his face coated with ash. She checked his pulse and felt a wave of relief. He was still alive and breathing. As quickly as possible she grabbed him under the arms and dragged him back towards the grass. She lay him down and was about to treat his injuries when the sound of hooves made her look up.

A group of plain tribesman approached, their direhorses snorting as the acrid smell of fire reached their breathing holes. One of them dismounted and ran to them.

"We saw the flame from a great distance. What happened?"

Pamtseo motioned to the unconscious Ray.

"Please, my mate is hurt badly, I need to get him somewhere safe."

The tall, lanky plainsman nodded and together, they hoisted him away from the inferno.

(A/N: Here's a little more stuff to chew on, second part of this story up later. R and R)


	13. Chapter 13

(A/N: Another timely update, huzzuah!)

Pamtseo sat outside the cluster of roots that sheltered her mate, waiting while the healer worked. The rainy season had arrived early, and a thick warm deluge of water poured out of the night sky. It was fortunate, she reflected, this way, no one would see her tears of worry.

Her Ray was in bad shape. The elderly healer had looked pale when she first saw him.

"I will do what I can, but his life hangs by a thread. He is in Eywa's hands now, and in Eywa's care we must trust." She had said.

She had been excused from her duties about the village to look after him, and apart from once to make the pilgrimage to the tree of souls and pray to Eywa, she had not left his side once. Likewise, he had not woken up for two weeks. He stirred now and then, bandages rustling softly. If she listened closely she could almost hear his voice. She realized how much she missed his presence now. The little things he did, the way he would twirl a stick between thumb and forefinger absentmindedly, his small, sincere smile.

A figure approached through the fog and rain, holding a hand over his eyes. The stocky form of Jake Sully resolved itself out of the gloom and sat down on the log next to her. There was a long silence.

"I'm sorry. I should have gone myself. It was a-"

"The past is a record written in stone. It is nobodies' fault, save for the sky people who built it."

Sully nodded and looked down at his interlaced fingers for a moment before speaking again.

"There is... something else."

Pamtseo caught his tired tone and worry etched itself onto her mind. _What could be worse than this?_

"I thought you should know before the rest of the village. It's the main reason I'm here."

"What?"

"The sky people have returned."

To her credit, Pamtseo'ite did not even wince. Nothing could shock her at the moment.

"When? How?"

"A second ship has arrived. You could see it at night, before the rain started. They have been landing at Hell's Gate all week."

The information washed over her brain like water over a rock. She was too tired to think all the consequences through.

"This village is only a few miles from the camp, so it will likely not be safe here for much longer. I must leave now to arrange an evacuation with the elders."

Pamtseo nodded silently. Sully stood and began to walk back into the downpour. A few seconds later and he was just another fold in the mist.

Brigadier General Williams stared moodily at the holographic map of Pandora. An entire garrison, laid to waste and then humiliated. In his opinion, death would have been preferable to being run off the planet by the local wildlife, as the reports indicated. It had been the rudest wake-up call of his life, stepping out of cryo after five years of travel to... this.

It was, to put not too fine a point on it, a cluster fuck of epic proportions. He had known Quaritch, before they shipped off. He was an utterly incompetent commander, just a grunt with an officer's patch slapped on, no real talent.

It was, however, a cluster fuck that was about to be put right. The ISV Forward Until Victory carried an entire regiment of soldiers and support. Three-fucking-thousand men, all put under his command. _Actually_ he mused _I prefer it this way. All dressed up, and now we have somewhere to go_. Behind him, his battlefield aide, an unshakably loyal Second Lieutenant named Calley, stopped and gave him a crisp salute. Lynch returned it.

"What are the estimates?"

"Sir, almost ninety-five percent of the mining and industrial equipment is unsalvageable, and what we do have, we don't have the tools to repair."

"That's fine, we're not here to scratch around in the dirt like chickens, we're here to fight. Have you consulted the executives about those numbers?"

That was the one thing about working for a private company. Instead of pushy commanders, you got pushy CEOs. In Williams' opinion the tradeoff wasn't all that great.

"Yes sir, they want you to pacify the locals by any means necessary, make it safe for mining operations."

The aide handed him a manila folder, stuffed to the brim with paper.

"What's this?"

"A legal waiver."

"A waiver for what?"

"The entire indigenous population. The courts have ruled in the RDA's favor, the Geneva Convention no longer applies to non-humans."

General Williams stared at the 8-1/2 by 11 folder in his hand with something approaching awe. This stack of paper... This stack of paper gave him free reign. If he was any less disciplined, he would have smiled, but all the aide saw was his eyes narrow ever so slightly.

"Good work Calley. Ready a shuttle, I think it's time I went planet side and took direct control."

"Right away sir."

The sun had finally peeked over the horizon one morning, providing a welcome, if temporary reprieve from the constant downpour. It was little comfort to Pamtseo, however. Another week had passed and no sign of life from Ray. His heartbeat and breathing were stronger, but his lids remained closed. It was beyond frustrating. Why now, Eywa? Just when she had gotten her life in order. She had given up moping at this point, steeling herself for the worst news possible. When Jake Sully had dropped by again and asked her to accompany a negotiation party to Hell's Gate, she had accepted. The whole village was on the move as they left, picking up their belongings and marching deeper into the jungle, where they would be safe from the encroaching sky-people.

In front of them, the thin black line of Hell's Gate grew closer and closer, like a patch of mold on an otherwise ripe fruit. The vines had been cleared off the fences and all the patches in the barbed wire fixed. She could see men moving around inside the guard towers, holding weapons. They halted, some distance from the main gate, and Sully produced a white length of cloth, which was apparently the human symbol for peace.

An older voice called out from the wall, much louder than normal.

"Alright, that's far enough. Tell your followers to stand back while we open the gate, only the one with the white flag can come forward."

Sully waived a hand to the clan chiefs that had accompanied him and they stepped back out of harms way, with some grumbling. Usually all the chiefs would be included in war councils, but they understood full well that the humans were not nearly as understanding. The black wall parted a bit, sliding back slowly until it was big enough for three men to stand in. Behind it, Pamtseo could see a flurry of activity. Human transports and men were rushing back and forth. It did not bode well for them. Jake walked forward calmly, and stopped at the entrance to the base. An older human with graying hair and stubble met him. She strained to hear what they were saying, but the sounds of metal clanging on metal drowned it out.

Sully leaned casually against the gate, his large arms crossed.

"How many weeks have you been here Williams? Four? Five? You don't get it. Quaritch didn't get it either, and look what happened to him. This world is taken. End of story."

The general gesticulated behind him at the work going on.

"Sully, I have an army! A well disciplined, well-trained, VERY well supplied army! You have a conglomeration of savages with sticks. They're not fighters like you and me, they're not killers. When their casualties start to climb, they'll fold, I guarantee you. I am a big man with a magnifying glass, and from up here, all you ants are looking like pretty tempting targets."

The ex-marine gave a low chuckle and stood up straight.

"No Will, what you are is a small child, playing with matches inside a locked room full of gasoline. You haven't the slightest fucking clue what my people will do to you the second you step out into that jungle. You see those vines? Climbing over everything, entangling and ensnaring? Nature is cruel General, and if you aren't careful, that endless forest over there will eat you up and spit you out."

" Well I guess we'll see, won't we?"

"Ten days Williams. I'm giving you ten days to pack your shit up and leave the way you came. After that, I want you to know that I can't make any guarantees about your safety. The Na'vi are pretty sick and tired of short little white people landing on their home turf and telling them what to do."

General Williams looked flustered and grew red in the face.

" Now you listen to me! You are the leader of that rabble, and as such, their deaths will be on your head if you choose to-"

Sully cut across him

"Our choice was made a long time ago. Ten days. Consider it, if only for the sake of your men."

With that, Jake Sully turned and strode back towards his forest, and his people, leaving the white cloth on the ground behind him.

(A/N: A lot of names in my stories have significance. It just so happens that a Second Lieutenant William Calley was convicted for the My Lai Massacre during the Vietnamese Civil War. A while ago I wrote a Halo fic about spies (If you're into the Office of Naval Intelligence then you might want to check it out when I publish it) and named all the characters after famous espionage agents from the 17 and 1800's. Just something to think about.)


	14. Chapter 14

(A/N: Puh-lease forgive spelling, grammar, and any other errors I may have made. It's way past the time I normally go to bed. Unfortunately for me, that's when I get all my good writing ideas. Oh well, suffer for your art and all that. Remember to review you flipacanorious little sausages, you.)

Brigadier General Williams flicked a toothpick over the edge of the airport control tower balcony. It clattered on the rungs below and fell out of sight. The tarmac in front of him was a hive of activity. A dozen AMP suits were standing out on the empty runway, surrounded by spare parts and oil cans. Some of them still lacked arms, which lay, disassembled, beside them on the pavement. Men were running around, hooking sockets in, winching ammunition and equipment into position. The chief mechanic stood next to him, wiping his hands on a cloth.

"They'll be up and running in no more than an hour. I just need a few more tanks of hydraulic fluid and then we can give the reactors a test start."

"Good. As soon as the platoon is together, let my subordinate know, we have a deadline to meet."

Williams said, shading his eyes from the harsh sun.

"Look, Mike. These boys are going to be escorting a convoy of trucks with tractors and heavy equipment. The RDA wants us to continue ore mining and storage with military personnel until the relief boat arrives in a year. That means a lot of wear and tear, and a lot of repairs, so make sure we have stockpiles on hand. They're going to have to last us a while."

The mechanic nodded.

"I don't think we'll run into too many problems. Did you say a year? I thought the round trip was more than that?"

Williams shook his head.

"I don't know the specifics. Something about a new "slingshot" method, be damned if I could wrap my head around what the techies were babbling on about. All I know is it's a lot faster."

Mike looked up at the gas giant hanging in the sky overhead and sighed.

"They still want us to dig our asses off all the way out here with no supplies and thin manpower? I mean, respectfully sir, I've got about fifty mechanics on this whole rock that I have to fix nearly three hundred vehicles, and I'm supposed to supervise this in a zero oxygen environment?"

The General shrugged and stirred the tall glass at his elbow with a paper umbrella stem.

"The air isn't all you're going to be fighting either. I received a visit from the natives just two days ago, essentially giving us the finger. Buncha cocky bastards are just waiting for us to slip up so they can kill us all in our sleep. We've got to make sure we don't make the same mistakes Quaritch did, otherwise we're going to have a long ride home to think about how to explain ourselves to the board."

"Why don't we just mount a seek and destroy mission? I can fit the gunships with enough firepower to-"

"No, we're not authorized to engage in a pitched battle with the natives. The whole board is well aware of what Quaritch tried to do to the local tribes. He blew up their biggest population center and then essentially tried to erase their cultural heritage. It was a damn fool move, and he got his ass killed for it. I don't want the natives on edge, thinking they have to make the first move. Ideally, we need to force them into some arrangement whereby we can just mine all the ore we want if we leave them alone, but to get there we're going to need to shoot some people, do some shock and awe missions. They've got to learn that we're going to get what we came here to get, and they can either step aside and let it be, or be destroyed."

Pamtseo eased through the gap between two huge trunks and dove into the underbrush. Pulling a branch aside carefully, she looked into the clearing beyond. There was a tremendous rumbling and two massive yellow bulldozers plowed forward, clearing a path. Behind them, trucks accelerated forward slowly, flanked by tall metal suits, their huge guns sweeping the tree line, silently daring anything to interfere.

In the tree line on either side of the trail lay a dozen Na'vi archers, covered in mossy camouflage or hidden high in the branches. They stalked along cautiously, observing the convoy's destructive progress through the jungle. They held bows and rusted rifles salvaged from the last human incursion. The game of cat and mouse continued for several minutes, the humans continuing along oblivious to the silent death that stalked them.

Suddenly, one of the bulldozers gave off a deafening bang and ground to a halt. The humans began shouting to each other. Some of them climbed up the front of the cab and opened a hatch. Smoke poured out and several pieces of metal clanged to the ground in a light shower of oil.

Colin watched the engineers fuss over the massive earthmover from the shade of an AMP suit. The column of vehicles had ground to a halt and most of the men had bailed out to sit somewhere cool, out of the heat of the day. It was part of the reason Colin hated this place; the weather. When it wasn't burning him to a crisp in his combat fatigues, it was drenching them with pouring sheets of rain.

A sergeant leapt out of the lead truck and tried to get the soldiers back into their vehicles, but most simply leaned against the tires or light cigarettes. Another technician bustled past with some tubing and belts, intent on getting the bulldozer fixed. From up above him a voice crackled over a loudspeaker.

"Hey, Colin, move man, I don't want to squish you by accident."

Colin retreated from underneath the walker and the AMP suit took a step back. Corporal Trenton walked up and offered him a cigarette, which he took gratefully. Colin gestured to the bulldozer in between puffs.

"You think they're ever going to get that damn thing running?"

"God only knows. I saw them tuning it up in the garage before we left, damn thing barely started. The engines aren't made for this atmosphere." Trenton mused.

"Despite being supposedly competent mechanical people, the Sapper Corps doesn't seem to be able to fix a single motor. I mean, really, where the fuck did they find these people, and who saw fit to put uniforms on them and call them soldiers?"

"Mm-hm."

The Corporal was fiddling with the safety on his weapon, switching it back and forth with a faint clicking noise. After a moment of silence he looked up at the forest surrounding them.

"Does something sound weird to you?"

Colin followed his line of sight but saw nothing. Despite this, he tensed a little. Trenton had a nose for danger, and when something was amiss, he was the first to know.

"What?"

"Oh, its just that... I don't know. I can hear something wrong, but I just can't put a finger on it."

Colin shrugged and began to walk toward the shade of his vehicle. Trenton snapped his fingers.

"That's what it is!"

He turned around and stared questioningly at the junior Corporal, who was staring up into the canopy.

"Just a minute ago there was a ton of birdsong. Now it's dead quiet."

Colin listened and found that he was correct. Over the distant bangs and clatters of the repair crew, he could hear... nothing. Not a sound pierced the tree line. Suddenly the jungle looked less like an innocent glade of trees more like a silently malevolent being, a sea of green that rippled and swayed with the wind.

"Great, now you've given ME the heebe-jeebes."

"Yeah, but it' weird right? I mean, if the birds will sing over the sound of the bulldozers, then that means that someone is..."

Trenton paused

"Someone is out th-"

The Corporal was cut short as a massive arrow zipped from the shadows on the right side of the road and impaled him, killing him instantly and sending his body tumbling. Every single soul in the convoy stopped for a split second. In that instant of silence, all eyes were on Trenton. Then another dozen arrows loosed themselves out of the trees and cut down most of the engineers, killing some and sending the others writhing in the grips of the neurotoxin in their barbs.

Soldiers began throwing themselves over the sides of the transport trucks and into the dirt. Some of the trucks accelerated, trying to break through the blocked road and towards safety. One of them crashed into an AMP suit, tripping it and totaling the engine. The other two were brought to a halt in a hail of gunfire. The three hundred some men retreated to the safety of the double-line of vehicles, firing indiscriminately back into the forest.

An answering volley of arrows and bullets cascaded out of everywhere. Colin grabbed Trenton's body and pulled him behind a truck. The AMP suits backed up to form a protective barrier around the infantry, auto cannons booming in full auto, scything through foliage like butter.

Another arrow hissed out of Pamtseo'ite's bow and impaled itself in the knee joint of one of the metal suits. The exchange continued for a few minutes and then tapered off. The Na'vi fled from their firing positions and faded back into the forest just as quickly as they had come. Pamtseo joined them, sprinting to keep up. Within a few minutes they had returned to the village, a fact which dismayed her. Her place of birth was now only a few thousand feet from the enemy. She could hear their vehicles revving up and smell the acrid burning fuel. It was a smell of fear.

Pamtseo remembered the first sky people. They had come when she was not yet full grown, offering gifts and praise and talk of kinship between species. These humans were creatures of infinite treachery, it seemed, bound only by what their cruel hearts could dream up and their ghastly machines could supply. Even now, they ate their way through everything good and whole, like a worm eating deep into the flesh of a fruit.

Her feet carried her, without thinking, to the hut where Ray was sleeping, entangled beneath the roots of a massive tree. His face was a mask of calm, light blue skin stretched over his face, almost in a smile, but not quite. In the fading light the stripes that ran across his cheeks and arms glowed faintly. Pamtseo laid a hand across his neck, to feel his pulse, to re-assure herself. There was a distant boom and another tribesman peeked around the corner.

"Pamtseo'ite, it is time."

"What about Ray?"

"I think my brother is bringing some huntsmen to carry him out, but you cannot stay here, the humans draw close, and if any of us linger we will surely be slain."

"But I want to make sure-" She began

"No, it is too dangerous! The best gift you can give him is your own survival. Go with the women and children, they are fleeing deeper into the forest."

"Where will you go?"

"I will stay here with the other men to see everyone off safely. Now go, the sky-people wait for no one."

She grabbed her bow and pack, but paused for a moment by Ray's bedside. With a heavy heart, she squeezed his hand, willing him one last time to wake up and join her. Then another explosion sounded closer and she fled out the door, as fast as her nimble legs could carry her.

Colin jogged along with the rest of the platoon, climbing over stumps and roots, heads constantly swiveling, expecting sudden attack at any moment. The blasted remains of the second bulldozer lay in a ditch behind them. The operator had failed to take notice of the trench, hidden by brush, and had trapped the vehicle in it. The surviving men, some one hundred and fifty total, were now pushing towards some kind of native encampment, possibly a living area. The thermal scan indicator on his HUD showed a few faint blips up ahead. They crashed through the undergrowth and stumbled out into a large, circular clearing.

If you looked closely you could discern openings in the bark that were obviously not natural. Strands of cloth and broken pottery lay all around, as if the inhabitants had picked up everything and left. The lieutenant who was now in charge motioned the men forward, and they fanned out. Occasionally a patter of footsteps could be heard.

A few Na'vi appeared out of a gap in the roots, carrying another one on what looked like a makeshift stretcher. They stopped when they saw the humans and dropped their charge, who rolled off and lay on his side. The soldiers opened fire and gunned down the natives in a deafening volley. All across the village, Colin could hear the sounds of shouts and gunfire.

First impressions are everything. The first impression Ray received of the world was of only a few senses. The smell of earth in his nostrils, a tangy, pungent odor. The feel of a hot gun barrel pressed into the side of his head. The sound of voices, shouting conflicting orders at him in English. He looked around and saw that he was surrounded by a group of soldiers. HUMAN soldiers. _I must be dreaming. _He thought _This is all just a weird dream._ Then he tried to sit up, and a rifle butt smashed into his temple with a whack. As he began to black out, the slightly exasperated words: _Oh damn it all, not again... _drifted across his mind before he went back into a deep sleep.

(A/N: Yes, I am introducing some new characters, and yes, that is the second time in thirty seconds of consciousness that Ray has had the crap knocked out of him. I don't intend to go easy on him in the next chapter either. [said the writer to his readers with an absolutely criminal wink] )


	15. Chapter 15

(A/N: Here's another update, I'll try to keep 'em coming more regularly.)

General Williams stared intently through the one sided window at the creature behind it. At first glance, it was simply another native Na'vi, patterned blue skin, large inquisitive yellow eyes. But, when you got closer, this one was different. The eyes were a bit smaller, the nose a little less cat-like, and an extra finger on each hand.

"Jesus H. Christ Calley, what is this thing?"

The young officer flipped through a few sheets of paper and cleared his throat in an official tone.

"An Avatar sir, the program was run under Quaritch and some woman named Dr. Augustine. I have all the specifications right here sir, if you would like to take a look."

The general shook his head.

"I want to get in there. If this thing can speak English, then we need see what it knows, before we take another step."

Williams strode over to the airlock and stepped through the thick door, strapping an exo mask on as he went. Calley tagged behind, a little apprehensive.

Former Specialist Grade E-5 Raymond Fletcher sat in a chair with his arms crossed, head bowed forward in narcotic-induced slumber. The general tapped the desk in front of him, and his eyes opened slowly, retracting over the yellow pupils, and making Calley cringe backwards slightly. Whatever kind of soldier he had been, he was not on their side now. The eyes were strangely calm. Not wide in shock, or half-closed in weariness, but alert and attentive, sweeping them up and down.

"Raymond Fletcher." Williams said, laying a large manila folder down on the table. "You have a very thick record."

When Ray did not respond, he continued.

"Two Silver Stars in Siberia for 'exceptional efficiency', a Venezuelan Campaign Pin, a letter of certification from the Airborne Jump School in Georgia, I mean, there are few finer soldiers running around out on this desolate outpost than you, Fletcher."

The alien ran a hand through his hair nonchalantly. He almost looked bored.

"What do you want?"

"I want you, back where you should be, fulfilling the contract you signed."

Williams opened the folder and slid the top sheet across to Ray.

"This is a SecOps contract."

"Correction: That is YOUR SecOps contract, and according to it, you owe the Resource Development Administration another four years of service."

To Lieutenant Calley's horror, Ray took the document and shredded it deftly with thumb and forefinger.

"Are you quite finished general?"

Despite his reputation for unflappability, Calley could see Williams' eyelid twitch ever so slightly.

"So I take it you won't be persuaded to help me? If I had you working both sides we could end the killing in a month."

"I'm not interested. The killing will continue, simply because it must. The Na'vi are not as gullible as we used to be. We know the consequences for allowing even one human encampment. It will mean the whole planet, it always does. Look at our own history, general, and tell me, does it ever stop with just that one itsy-bitsy little encroachment? The humans will keep pouring in until an equilibrium is reached, at which time it will just be another Earth, except with an unbreathable atmosphere."

Williams frowned.

"Then you already know that the chain of events set in motion twenty five years ago are unstoppable. Do you honestly think that the largest corporation in the known universe is going to bring their operations on the most resource rich planet in the known universe to a screeching halt simply because you and your band of indigenous stick-throwers kill off some of them?"

"No, I don't think that, which is why I'm not going to kill 'some' of you, I'm going to kill all of you. Down to the last man."

Williams smiled laconically and stood, motioning Calley to take the folder.

"Well that is a fine ambition, but I think that you're going to be spending a little time in 'special treatment' before we let you out on a xenocidal rampage."

The generals aide reached for the manila envelope that still sat on Ray's side of the table. In a heartbeat, a blue skinned arm snaked out and grabbed Lieutenant Calley roughly by his throat and lifted him almost a foot off the ground. Williams stood back and shouted hoarsely for security, who rushed into the small room and shot Ray a half dozen times in the chest with beanbag rounds. As he and his aide were escorted swiftly out of the cell, they could hear wheezy laughter drifting down the corridor.

Huge was a loose term on Pandora. The trees that stretched away for miles in every direction were huge. The creatures that grazed on grass shoots and leaves in the sunlit meadows were huge. But this... This was another kind of large altogether. This was monstrous. Titanic. Leviathan. Pamtseo'ite could not take her eyes of off it. The beast looked vaguely like a banshee, but made of metal and a thousand times bigger. It's claws stuck into the brim of the massive pit mine, and a squat body, swollen with cockpits and teeming with humans in bright clothing hunkered just above it. The neck was long and thick, supported by steel cables that extended from wing-like structures at its sides, straining against wind and weight to keep itself upright. The mouth was a wheel of claws, each facet a bucket, shearing away at the walls of the man-made canyon. Smaller trucks busied themselves at the bottom of the mine, carrying away the dirt and debris raised by the massive excavator.

Sully crouched next to her on the tree branch, watching the thing through a set of binoculars. Just a few hundred feet in front of them stretched a length of fence, topped by cruel strands of wire and patrolled by stern faced guards.

"That's it. We shut down that thing right there and we destroy their main reason for being here." Sully remarked quietly, checking an odd human device on his wrist "I just hope Hufwe'Itan is close. The guards are about to change shifts, and it could get pretty ugly fast."

The tall, brooding Hufwe'Itan had immediately volunteered to go on the raid. He was the oldest of the young folk, just a few months away from manhood, eager to prove himself a warrior and asset to the clan, an instinct which had landed him in hot water on more than one occasion. Pamtseo simply hoped that he had not gone too far this time.

At the same moment, there came a gentle rustling below them, distinguishable only to the native ear, as footsteps on wet leaves. The nearest human guard was leaning against the wall, unaware of a particularly dark patch of shadow that drew ever closer. He light a cigarette, and the familiar smell of smoke drifted through the branches. Pamtseo recalled scolding Ray for the very same thing on more than one occasion. The fond memory almost brought tears to her eyes. Her mate had not been among those who fled the village, and when she returned, everything had been burned to the ground in a hundred paces of the center. Ray was nowhere to be found, but several other Na'vi had not endured such a kind fate. Even now, Pamtseo could see their bodies lying on the charred grass, hands still outstretched in surrender.

There was a yelp followed by a sickening crunch below them and Pamtseo winced as the human soldier slumped unceremoniously into the muddy ground. Once, she would have protested that Hufwe'Itan had been too brutal, but now... things were different.

The young warrior motioned eagerly behind him and a dozen other warriors leapt out of hiding places in the foliage that ringed the mine. Sully waved down to them and then stood up all the way, grasping an overhead branch for balance.

"That's our signal, let's get going before they discover any bodies."

Pamtseo brought three fingers to her lips and blew through them. To the human ear, there was no sound, but in the ultra-fine vibrations above terrestrial hearing the jungle echoed with a piercing call.

Two black, bat-like shapes swooped out of the sky to land a little awkwardly on the tree limb below them. They both slipped into the saddle and Pamtseo whispered words of greeting into her mount's ear, before making the bond with her queue. At a simple thought, the forest banshees went swooping away into the darkened sky. Even at night the starlight was strong enough to give them away, so they hugged the cliff wall and threaded under the arm of the excavator.

In a graceful pirouette, they landed on the top of the mining vehicle. The massive digging arm stretched away before them, culminating in the rotating claw that was abrading dirt and rock at an awesome rate. With another quiet word, their banshees slid off the metal platform and into the sky, where they could just be made out as two black spots among the stars, circling constantly. Pamtseo turned to Sully.

"How do we destroy this thing?"

Jake looked almost embarrassed.

"Well, I was planning on cutting the cables that hold it up, but..."

His voice trailed away as both of their eyes traveled to the enormous columns that held the digging arm in place.

"It's just a little bit thicker up close, isn't it?" Pamtseo remarked dryly

"Not to worry though, these things are powered by reactors, it just means we have to climb down into it and potentially get poisoned."

"What is a _reaktor_?" Pamtseo asked, rolling the English word around in her mouth.

"It's uh... It works on the principle..." Sully murmured. It was slightly frustrating to describe nuclear fusion in a language that was created by a race who couldn't wrap their collective heads around the technology or need behind a pocket calculator.

"It glows, and spins, and gives things power. You'll know it when you see it."

Pamtseo nodded and un-slung the human weapon from her waist

"Poisoning you say? There are worse ways to die."

Sully gritted his teeth and said nothing. Actually, he couldn't think of many worse ways to die than radiation poisoning, but he decided not to share this with Pamtseo. They were far too deep in the frying pan to turn back now. Jake propped open a hatch on the surface of the excavator body and motioned Pamtseo'ite into the darkness below. She squeezed herself down into it, and slid down a surprisingly short distance onto a hard metal floor. Jake was right behind her. They were in a very small closet, full with supplies. Through the door in front of them, she could see humans in exopacks gathered around a large circular tube of glass that dominated the center of the room. A brilliant yellow ball of light pulsed inside, like a second sun, the pillars and support structures casting dancing shadows on the wall. The air was filled with a low humming, and Pamtseo tasted copper on her tongue.

"I am guessing that this is the thing you were talking about." Pamtseo said, an ever so slight hint of sarcasm coloring her voice. Sully grinned. Ray had been the biggest deadpan snarker of a soldier he had ever met, and some of it obviously had rubbed off on his mate.

After a few minutes of silent tension, another technician flanked by two soldiers ran in and started gesticulating wildly. Sully grinned.

"I think somebody just stumbled upon a dead guard."

The room cleared out surprisingly fast, except for two people. They were huddled over a large monitor right in front of the reactor, oblivious to the two Na'vi that crept silently from a maintenance cabinet.

"No, If you just dump the coolant now, we can shut it down safely!"

"Every gallon of that stuff costs more than you make in a month. Do you want to be the one to tell the foreman we doused the reactor in the middle of a dig cycle? We have a quota to meet!"

"Whoa whoa whoa! Look at this!"

"What?"

"This surveillance monitor here. There are two natives, right there!"

The technician pointed a long finger at something Pamtseo couldn't see.

"Which camera is that?"

She heard Sully curse and felt a slight breeze as he sprinted past her, towards the suited men opposite them.

"Let's see, that would be 6a, which means... Wait, 6a is right behind u-"

The man was cut off abruptly in mid sentence as all the air in his lungs whooshed out from the impact of Sully's shoulder. He flipped over and tumbled down a short flight of stairs, where he lay motionless. The other scientist grabbed a gun from the table and began backpedaling franticly, firing like a madman. Bullets zipped through the air shattering glass and pockmarking metal. Jake dove behind a desk and overturned it, while Pamtseo unsheathed the knife at her belt. She grasped the lean metal blade with three fingers, just like Ray had showed her. The technician's pistol clicked empty and he turned to run. Unfortunately for him, the keen edge hissed through the air much faster than his legs could carry him. He flinched a little as the knife sunk to its handle between his shoulder blades, and then toppled to the floor and ceased to move.

Pamtseo retrieved her knife and looked over at Sully, who was staring at the other technician. The previously unconscious man had dragged himself to the service elevator and was making an odd, one fingered hand gesture to them as he sunk out of sight. Pamtseo'ite was just about to ask Jake what it meant when the sound of cracking glass filled the air. Her eyes were drawn to the massive dome that held the almost blinding light. All along it's surface, huge cracks were spidering down, stemming from a single bullet hole near the top. Pieces of metal started to break off inside it and orbit, like little moons. The pitch of the whirring increased and objects around them began to creep towards the ever growing reaction.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Sully screamed above the din, and grabbed Pamtseo's arm.

Together they fled back up the ladder as the light grew too bright to look at. Pamtseo pulled herself up onto the top of the digger. The whole mining camp was on the move. Far down below a convoy of vehicles was winding its way up the road towards the surface, and she could she flashes of gunfire in the bushes. But she could also hear something else. An ominous droning noise, getting closer with every second. She knew that noise, she doubted she would every forget it until the day she joined Eywa.

A Dragon Assault Ship broke over the lip of the mine and made a beeline for them, it's four engines screaming at full capacity. Searchlights winked on from it's belly and illuminated them. Pamtseo turned back to Jake, her eyes pleading silently for some kind of instruction. Jake shook his head.

"Run, just run."

Even as they turned, the launchers swiveled to face the extractor arm. A cloud of missiles sprang lose from the wing and came screaming in to detonate in fiery blossoms on the hull. Heat rushed over Pamtseo's skin, followed shortly after by a wave of concussion that swept them both off their feet. Jake struggled upright and grabbed her arm.

"Come on, don't stop!"

The whole arm gave a tremendous groan and began to tip. Beneath them, a part of the extractor bridge crumpled, and all around them the wires that kept the claw upright strained and snapped. The grade ahead of them continued to grow steeper as more supports collapsed. _This is it_ Pamtseo thought _I wish I could have seen Ray one last time._

A screech from high above made both of them look up. Bearing down towards them at a dizzying speed was Hufwe'Itan and their mounts. Jake looked over at Pamtseo and nodded. They took a breath and threw themselves off the doomed extractor. Pamtseo only opened her eyes when she felt her body impact with the warm hide of the Ikran. Quickly pulling herself on, she connected the link and urged the banshee upwards and away. The three of them soared towards the top of the mine, which seemed miles away. Suddenly bullets were hissing past them and she looked back.

The Assault Ship was pulling up, looping under the collapsing digging arm and firing as it came. They broke even with the wall of the canyon and went into a climb straight upwards, wings straining while the rocks blurred past. Pamtseo looked back one more time and saw the collapsing structure slam into the Dragon, which fell back down into the pit with smoke trailing from its engines.

As soon as they were up and over the edge, Pamtseo leveled out and followed Jake in a twisting path towards the signal fire in the distance. They landed with a soft thud on the rivers edge, and other tribesman hurriedly put out the fire. Her heart rate slowly returned to normal and she gave her mount a pat on the nose.

"Thank you Atan'Tsyal."

The banshee gave a satisfied purr and stalked off to look for a meal. Her eyes were drawn to the river bank where a group of Omaticaya including Jake were standing in a semi circle around Hufwe'Itan's orange Ikran. The creature was hunkered down over something, and hissed at anyone who came too close. Pamtseo pushed through the small crowd and craned her neck.

At the banshee's clawed feet lay a Na'vi. He was not moving and a thin trickle of blood issued from a cluster of neat holes in his back. Pamtseo clapped a hand over her mouth and backed away, trying to keep the nausea from overcoming her. The body, was that of Hufwe'Itan. Even in death, he clutched his bow, an arrow that he would never fire dangling from his fingers. Jake retreated from the circle and motioned the others to do the same.

"Come away. She will give up the body when she is ready."

Hufwe's Ikran leaned its neck down, nudged his body, and then let out a howl that reverberated in the trees. Some of the villagers were crying, others, like Jake, simply walked back into the brush, their faces etched in stone.


	16. Chapter 16

(A/N: Hey all you readers, my birthday is coming up, and you know what's on my wish list this year? Reviews. Don't cost money or anything, don't even need to wrap it, you just click that button down there and jot your feedback in the box, and it helps me make the story into something that you all would want to read. Thanks! Also, POV separations are now working, after fifteen chapters. It has been unfairly confusing, and I apologize. I did not realize the formatting was taking out my customary triple asterisk.)

Williams' knuckles were pale white as he gripped the railing on the command deck. In front of him, the tactical overlay displayed ghostly holographic images of the territory surrounding Hell's Gate. The main mining pit showed up a dull, blinking red. The general smoothed back his hair and lit a pipe. Strictly against regulations of course, igniting a combustible in a high-oxygen environment, but what the hell, an equipment fire was the last of his worries today. Behind him, his field aide stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and projecting a general air of nervousness. His boss was not happy.

"Perhaps we should send out envoys sir, see if we can work out a cease fire for the time being."

"God no. I am not going to crawl, on my belly, in front of those savages. We are going to continue. These losses were harsh, but not catastrophic by any means. Now we can concentrate on the real objective: getting the Na'vi to surrender."

The general paused and surveyed the large map. It was dominated by one color: green. The forest engulfed Hells Gate like an ocean, it's green shore always lapping just outside the walls.

"We need to even the odds. These blue freaks are fighting on their home turf. They know this jungle, we don't, it's just a fact. If we're going to win we have to level those trees."

Lieutenant Calley's eyes pricked up. "Do you mean defoliants, sir? We have an emergency stockpile of Agent-166, rated to kill Pandoran plant biology."

General Williams smiled and exhaled a puff of smoke. "Yes. And incendiary. White Phosphorus and Napalm canisters ought to smoke the rats out of their nest."

"Yes sir, would you like me to issue the order?"

"Yes. And one more thing. Bring our traitorous little friend Fletcher to the vehicle depot, we need to get a convoy together and move him to the indigenous detention camp in the hills south of us."

"Right away sir."

Ray sat in the far corner of his concrete cell in shadow. Outside the reinforced polymer door he could see shapes moving around. Then the intercom crackled on. "Prisoner 12215, put your hands in the door slot, your cell is being opened."

Through the crack in the door he could see the shadows of a group of people, poised outside his cell door, waiting. A minute passed in silence.

"Prisoner 12215, this is your last warning, put your hands in the slot so we may cuff you."

Ray slipped silently off the wooden cot and flattened his body against the wall next to the door. He might not be able to stop them, but he was sure as hell not going to make it easy or pleasant for his captors. After a final tense moment of silence the door swung outwards and a file of four marines with stun batons and riot shields dashed into the cell. The first one stepped through and caught four carbon fiber reinforced knuckles to the side of his head, throwing him to the ground.

The second marine tripped over his comrades legs and tried to right himself as Ray hammered his squadmate in the stomach with an elbow, sending him slumping over the cot. The other two soldiers pushed through into the cell and started to whale on him with their batons. Shock after shock coursed through Ray's back. He held his hands out in front of him, trying to fend off the barrage, but it shocked his hands too. Black ate away at the edges of his vision, and he fought to remain conscious. Eventually his world faded into a painful slumber. He vaguely remembered being dragged by his arms across a concrete floor and thrown into the back of a large cargo truck.

When he came to, slowly, and seemingly from a deep pit, he had a black bag over his head. On his wrists and ankles he could feel zip ties, binding him in place. He lay on the hard metal floor, wincing as the truck's suspension bounced over rocks in the dirt road. He could see a little light piercing the windows, it was the blue tint of dusk.

The ride seemed to go on for ages, and all light faded eventually into night. Just as he was about to fall back asleep, the truck slowed, made a sharp turn and stopped. The door was opened and two sets of strong arms pulled him out and dragged him across a hard blacktop. The face mask was pulled off and he saw the dim shape of a pre-fab building in the darkness. He was pulled roughly inside and abandoned. The door gave a faint click and they were gone.

No explanation, nothing. Looking around the rather large bunk for the first time, he realized that there were figures sprawled out on the floor, fast asleep. Ray massaged the soreness in his forearms and looked closer. They were Na'vi. This revelation made him jump a little. He was in a room full of sleeping Omaticaya, wearing the standard orange prison jumpsuit. Women and children slept huddled together. A hoarse whisper reached his ears.

"Hey, you there! Over here!"

Ray looked across the room to a tall thin Na'vi male. The war paint on his face was smudged, but still visible. He beckoned with one hand, and Ray threaded through the sleeping captives and sat down next to him.

"Where are we, I thought I was transferred alone?"

The hunter shook his head.

"No, many others have been caught. They send us here and make us work, they give us very little food."

Ray pulled his knees to his chest and crossed his arms.

"This is a work camp?"

"I do not know what it is. I have only been here for three weeks. I was caught in the first attack, trying to flee. I was shot through the leg, and now I must use a walking stick. Even I must work."

Ray let his head fall into his hands. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly. His thoughts drifted to Pamtseo. Where was she? What was she doing and thinking right now? Questions floated through his mind as he stared out into the dark mass of sleeping Na'vi, their skin gently glowing with bioluminescence and bathing the room in a warm glow.

The deep velvety darkness of dreamless sleep retracted as Colin opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep in the tank again, on top of the shell loader. Not the most comfortable place, he reflected as he stretched. Then again, sleeping on the hard ground and playing host to a swarm of alien insects was not all that desirable either. He had been sent south, into the hills with the rest of his platoon to secure a "POW camp". The whole idea was ridiculous. Who knew if the Na'vi even had the same traditions about surrender as humans did? But orders were orders, and here they were, guarding a few hundred natives.

Brooklyn, the squad heavy machine gunner, was already sitting on the turret of the tank when Colin opened the top hatch, sipping a mug of coffee and heating up an MRE.

"Hey, Colin, you want any of this?"

"Uh, coffee?"

"Yeah, you won't believe how hard it is to brew on this planet, what with the pressure difference and all."

Colin downed the bitter fluid and retrieved his rifle from the pile.

Brooklyn took one look at his ration, made a face, and tossed it.

"Not hungry for mystery meat this morning. We should hurry up, roll call starts in just a few minutes."

Together the two soldiers made their way to the center of the camp. Other OpSec personnel patrolled the walls, occasionally glaring down at the natives, who were being marched into the square in columns. Most of them were looking at their feet, or somewhere ahead of them, their eyes blank. Colin had to admit to himself, it was pretty terrifying seeing them up closer. They were tall, thin, and moved with an otherworldly grace, a dignity that seemed to come from within, even in defeat.

The camp commander sent several soldiers on roll call, moving between the rows and counting heads. After returning the clipboards to him, and deeming them satisfactory, he dismissed the Na'vi to work with a short blast on the whistle that dangled on his neck.

Ray clutched briefly at his back as it spasmed in protest. He had been sitting here, leaning over his work station for almost four hours. Around him the other Na'vi worked silently away, scrubbing the rust off of scrap metal with a handful of steel wool and a foul smelling liquid. The manufacturing plant stretched a whole half acre, the insides clanging with the sounds of hard manual labor. Soldiers with rifles patrolled the rows, making sure every detainee was doing what they should be. The work continued for another hour, and then they were allowed a break for fifteen minutes. Ray saw heartache and weariness etched into every face. Some of them didn't talk, they simply embraced, happy to be alive on more day. He sat on a stack of crates by the fence and was joined by the Na'vi he had met his first day, a hunter who simply asked to be called Tsmukan.

"On my home planet, there is an insect called a moth. Whenever someone turns on a light and moths are near, they will congregate around the source, sometimes in flocks, all flapping franticly to get closer to the light. Humans are the same way. Wherever there is something they want, as badly as they want this planet, they will try and take it, always drawn to fleeting power and riches."

Tsmukan laid his head against his fist and sighed.

"What happens to the moths around the light?"

Ray smiled

"They fly in circles around it until they either starve, or burn themselves on the surface."

Lieutenant Harper Fick leaned back in his chair, the flickering lights and display of the control panel in front of him casting eerie aurora borealis across the darkened command deck. All non-essential lights had been turned off to as much power as possible. The engineers had drawn a long timeline, and found that they didn't have enough reactor rods to keep the ISV Forward Until Victory completely powered and in geosynchronous orbit over Hell's Gate for any more than five months. Now crewmen were bumping into each other as they used flashlights to find their way from room to room. The only place with any windows larger than portholes was the command deck, and they were currently rotated onto the night side.

A red light winked on. Fick bent closer to examine it and read the tag. **Surface Communication Line Waiting**. Quickly, and with practiced ease he punched a long code into the keypad next to him and pressed a button on the touch screen. A crackle injected itself into his headphone speakers.

"Forward Until Victory, this is Hell's Gate Tower, how do you read, over?"

"Read you five by five Tower, go ahead and send traffic, over." He replied

"We need a macro-level thermal scan on a section of ground, radius of three miles, grid coordinates to follow, over."

The lieutenant bent over his screen and typed in a series of commands.

"Standing by for those coordinates ground."

"Coordinates are as follows, Lima-Lima Two Six One Eight Eight Nine along lateral line Bravo Uniform Two-Twenty-Six, how copy over?"

Fick checked the numbers he had written down against the transcript and keyed his microphone to respond.

"Numbers check out fine Tower. Interrogative, you are targeting the Prisoner Camp three miles south of you position, correct?"

"Yeah, that's it. The camp commander is reporting movement on his perimeter, but his thermal imaging equipment is damaged, over."

"Roger that Tower, that sucks. I'm routing the results of the scan to you in just a few seconds."

Outside the ISV, in the vacuum of space, a trio of bulky cameras swiveled to face the ground. On the Lieutenant's screen a resolving image of the jungle appeared. He could see the cold, dark outlines of the camp buildings and the reddish-yellow patches where soldiers patrolled. His eyes were drawn to the north east corner of the scan, where there was an even larger patch of red, glowing luminously in the darkness of the bridge. Fick increased the resolution and zoomed in. He could see a host of figures, easily over a thousand, and just as many dire horses. His fingers shaking slightly, he pressed the send button on his headset.

"Tower, are you getting this?"

"That's an affirmative, good work FOV, large group of mounted hostiles encamped a half mile East-North-East of the POW camp, transmission complete, Hell's Gate Tower, over and out."

Fick rubbed a hand over his forehead, and tried to keep his eyes open. His sleep shift was coming in just over an hour, and now more than ever in his life he was glad he wasn't in the position of the soldiers on the ground. Nothing good came of serving in the infantry on this godforsaken moon.


	17. Chapter 17

(A/N: Honestly, I think this is one of my best chapters yet, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please review, your opinion is important to me. Also, sorry about previous chapters, deleted my three asterisks that usually signal a change in scenery, so it has likely been confusing for you. My bad for not being more attentive.)

Darkness was descending once more over the jungles of Pandora, and Pamtseo'Ite was feeling an emotion she had only experienced a few times before in her life. Fear. The camp loomed on the horizon, bright searchlights combing the forest just outside it's borders. An entire company of Omaticaya was encamped on the top of the hill, their steeds sleeping next to them.

Pamtseo sat on an ancient, weather beaten stump, worn smooth by the ages. Above her, the massive orbs in the sky whirled slowly along their paths, unchanged since the world began. She stared out at the foreboding human installation, wondering balefully whether Ray was in there somewhere. She imagined him, sitting down somewhere and looking across the fence to her, his friendly eyes and easy smile once again on his face.

The sound of soft footsteps brought her from her reverie, and she turned to find Neytiri standing next to her.

"You should get some rest Pamtseo. Tomorrow will be hard, perhaps the hardest yet."

Pamtseo nodded slowly.

"I know I should, but sleep does not come easy."

A strong hand squeezed her shoulder.

"He is in there Pamtseo, I know it."

* * *

Dawn broke over the labor camp, the first rays of morning light found Ray sitting outside the bunk house, smoking a cigarette, filched from an unwary guard. Every prisoner had experienced a new meaning of exhaustion over the past 12 hours, starting when an after-break roll call revealed one inmate to be missing. As punishment, the rest of them were given half rations and double work detail.

A fan lizard scampered over the rough pavement and alight upon a rock near him, where it began to sun itself. Ray reached out a finger to stroke its head but it balked at his approach, fled towards the electrified fence, and was eviscerated by at least a thousand volts.

Above him he could hear two soldiers talking.

"How many of them are out there?"

"I can't tell, it all looks like one mass on the thermal scan, but I'd say in the hundreds."

"How long until they make contact with the outer perimeter?"

"Ten minutes, maybe more. They're moving at almost sixty kilometers per hour. It's a full-on frontal assault."

Ray's ears pricked up. He had often wondered if the Na'vi would come to rescue them, but he dared not hope for anything on this scale.

"It doesn't matter what it is, as soon as they get within a few hundred feet, the auto turrets will turn them into blue paste."

"We'd better hope so, otherwise we run a very real risk of being overrun entirely."

"Keep an eye on them, update me if the situation changes, and whatever you do, DON'T sound the alarm. The last thing we need is a revolt."

"Yessir."

Ray hurriedly put out the cigarette and looked out across the jungle that fell away down the slope before him. There was a wave coming towards them, a rustle in the sea of green that he would have dismissed as the wind if he hadn't known better. Panic spiked through him. He had seen firsthand what the Mark Five Perimeter Defense Turret could do to unshielded flesh. What if Pamtseo was among the attackers? He tried to relax and look calm as a trio of soldiers marched past, but it was impossible. He had to do something, just sitting in place while his mate threw herself to her death was too horrifying a thought to bear.

His eyes swept around the camp, desperately searching for answers. Then, he remembered the power station. In the middle of the camp was a sort of shed, adjacent from the main factory. Inside was a gasoline generator that burned day and night, expelling a foul smoke into the air and giving off a constant hum. He could hear it even now, rattling away. As inconspicuously as he could, Ray strode towards it. He was the only member of his species on the yard currently, the others were taking their rest inside the bunks, but he attracted little attention.

Ray reached the factory and skirted along the outside as quietly as he could. He peeked around the corner and spotted a lone guard leaning against the door and holding a coffee mug in his hands. The soldier did not turn around at his approach, and Ray's long arm shot out and clamped shut like a vise around his neck. The man struggled, sputtered, and finally slumped over.

With lightning fast reflexes, he reached out and caught the mug before it shattered on the ground. Dragging the body behind him, Ray pushed open the door to the generator room and lay the unconscious man against the wall. The generator rattled away in front of him, a gargantuan monstrosity the size of a full grown Sturmbeest. He poured over the controls, trying to figure out which button would shut it off. _If I shut it off, they can simply turn it back on, _he thought _What I need to do is destroy it_.

Scanning the floor around him, his eyes alight upon a long metal pole. He grabbed it with one arm and thrust it as hard as he could into the air intake fan. A spray of sparks momentarily blinded him and he stumbled backwards. The machine emitted a grating screech and then fell silent. Wiping his eyes, Ray stood and turned to the exit, failing to notice the fact that the soldier he had incapacitated was no longer lying on the floor.

This fact gained a little more context when he stepped into the fresh air and received a poly-carbonate rifle stock blow to the face. Pain arced up his cheek and jaw, and he fell to his knees.

* * *

Pamtseo sat in a semi circle, a sea of other heads sitting next to her, and perched in trees, a silent and listening intently to Jake Sully.

"The sky people have enslaved our families. Mothers, women, children, no one is spared. The human menace eats through our lands and takes from us all that we hold dear! If we do not act today, here, now, it will continue, until the last drop of life has been wrung from us and our world is tossed aside like a used husk."

A general cry of agreement went up and he continued.

"Today we strike a blow against the parasites! Today we expel them from our home! Today we free our kinsmen! Today we fight! Today we win! For Eywa!"

"For Eywa!" The crowd thundered in response.

There was a general commotion as the whole congregation rushed to their steeds. Pamtseo leapt up on the back of her own mount, and bonded with it, the rush of alien senses and emotion temporarily overwhelming her.

Then, they rode.

Pamtseo had heard stories in her childhood of the Clan Wars, heard tales of the heroic charges of Omaticaya which occupied the daydreams of every male of a certain age, but to actually be a part of one... It was exhilarating. The wind whipped through her hair as her Direhorse deftly dodged root and tree. There was no sound except the thundering of many hooves, and no light except the sun, breaking over the horizon.

* * *

"You. Little. FUCKER!" A voice screamed in English "Not so goddamn tough now, huh? When it's a fair fight!"

Ray struggled to pick himself up off the ground but the accumulated weakness of weeks of forced labor proved too much. Under any other circumstances, he would have beat the man to a pulp easily, but now his body was simply a ragdoll.

As he lay on the ground, he could see another group of soldiers running towards him.

"What's going on Colin?"

"This fucking monkey just strangled me, I think he broke the generator!"

"Yeah, the lights are all off, we wondered..."

"Someone's going to have to go and raise the alarm manually, all the sirens are electric!"

"What about the native?"

There was a pause, and then "I think we should make an example out of him."

"Heh, I'm game."

A hand grasped him at the base of his queue and began to drag him, coaxing a long and drawn out cry from Ray. Other arms grabbed his arms and legs and pulled him over the rough concrete.

"Aaaaargh!"

Through the haze of pain, he heard the voice of the soldier he had strangled, Colin.

"Yeah? You like that? Doesn't feel too good does it? Don't worry, we're not going far my blue little friend."

All of a sudden the pain stopped and he was roughly dropped. He tried again to push himself upright, but a stinging blow to his wrist stopped him. He opened his eyes and saw that he was in front of the bunkhouse, and that a small crowd of Na'vi were gathered around, watching. The soldier named Colin stepped into his field of view and leaned over to leer at him, before another boot slammed into his chest, knocking the wind from him.

He was rolled over onto his back, still gasping, and Colin jumped on top of him while two other soldiers held him down. He caught a glimpse of the soldier's face, thin and pale with a mop of dirty blond hair, his features contorted in an expression of rage. He couldn't have been more than twenty. Over and over he hit Ray. In the jaw, the head, the neck, the upper body, any place that was exposed was subject to the wrath of the vengeful

soldier.

Time slowed down, almost to a standstill. Light and shadow flashed across his vision, distorting it. Pain became a part of every fiber of his body, enveloping him, bending and breaking him many times over. The seconds slid by like lifetimes, each an instant of pain followed by a small respite, and then another, and another, and another. He felt nothing other than the thump of fists impacting him. He was defined by it, as surely as if he had felt nothing else since the time has was born.

At the edge of his consciousness, he was aware of a noise. Shouting. People shouting in Na'vi, and English. The words filtered through his besieged brain and meaning followed them.

"Let him go! You let him go!"

"Get back! This is none of your business, get the fuck back!"

The pain abruptly stopped, and he could see the hazy outline of the soldiers, struggling with the crowd of Na'vi, their weapons forgotten. With all the strength he had left, Ray began to pull himself away from the melee, but strong arms grabbed him. He was about to attempt to fight back, when a familiar voice whispered in his ear.

"Relax, you are among friends."

Despite his injuries, a smile tugged the edges of Ray's mouth.

"Tsmukan..."

"Yes, and not a moment too soon. Help me, I cannot carry you alone."

Above it all, he could hear something else. A rumble, like an earthquake.


	18. Chapter 18

_**(Hey readers, this next chapter got so long that I had to split it into two. That means good news for those of you who like the story, new update coming almost immediatley. Also, the wonderful software at Fa(n)f1ction(.)net saw fit to completely rape all of my line breaks, so if you spot any weird bits, the blame rests solely with them.)**_

High above the carnage, a small black shape hovered. No one in the skirmish below had seen it appear, and no one noticed it now. Inside the bulbous black cockpit a pilot twitched the stick to the right and edged closer to the scene unfolding on the ground. Most of the humans had either put up their hands or surrendered, the dead on both sides was minimal. Unbelievable as it was, the Na'vi had scored their first major victory with a minimum of bloodshed. A businesslike voice crackled over the gunner's headset.

"Falcon 2-5, Godfather speaking, interrogative, are you over the target area now, over?"

Lazily the gunner pressed the small button on his ear and replied. "Roger that Godfather, we are observing everything on the ground and up to a two click radius, over."

"Godfather copies and requests immediate status report on the forces inside the camp, over."

The gunner shook his head and threw the pilot a meaningful look. "You think I should tell it like it is?"

The pilot held out his hand expectantly for the radio.

"Let me talk to them."

The gunner handed it to him and leaned back in his chair, fiddling with one of the dials.

"Godfather, this is 2-5 Actual, friendlies on the ground have been totally overwhelmed and have surrendered. I can see isolated individuals fleeing, the enemy is making no attempt to pursue, over."

After a long pause, there was an answer over the network. "We copy Falcon, stand by for new orders."

Several tense minutes passed in the cockpit. The gunnery officer sighted the little red reticule for the onboard ordinance on the group of humans being manhandled below by the natives. Most of the men were cowering in a corner, their weapons discarded and destroyed, a watchful contingent of Na'vi standing over them. His patience and fuel meter ticking towards empty, the pilot keyed the mic.

"Godfather, 2-5 actual here requesting permission to fire on the enemy."

Again, there was another long pause before: "Alright 2-5, drop your ordinance to the south, and try to avoid hitting any of our guys."

The pilot looked over the brim of his goggles at the treetops below and smiled.

"Always knew being a flyboy would pay off. This is 2-5, inbound hot, six incendiaries for the section, over."

* * *

Ray weaved his way desperately through the milling crowds, calling his mates name. In the struggle he had been separated from Tsmuken. The situation was total chaos, RDA security fleeing, surrendering or fighting to the death with mounted Na'vi warriors. Twice he was knocked to the ground by a lunging direhorse. He picked himself up off of the pavement and continued to run, calling out his mates name. In the midst of the carnage he glanced back and saw the soldier named Colin, fleeing into the factory with a dozen other armed guards. Ray was about to give chase when a sound met his ears. A familiar sound. The chopping of rotor blades. He turned his eyes skyward and watched in horror as the fat black outline of a Gryffin Heavy Attack Helicopter swoop towards the encampment.

The next few seconds seemed surreal. The Na'vi stood and stared at the black chopper, some looking frightened. The remainder of the humans fled through the broken fences into the tree line or into the factory building. With a roar the chopper stabilized, turned, and fired.

Ray didn't so much see the rockets as feel them. The first few explosions tore up chunks of pavement and started walking their way towards the group.

"Run! Don't stop, RUN!" Ray screamed

The natives didn't need telling twice. All at once every warrior inside the perimeter dove for cover. A few brave souls stood their ground, loosing arrow after arrow at the metal craft. One of them struck the exhaust grate and a gout of fire and smoke belched forth. The chopper wobbled and it's aim shifted wildly. The rest of the missiles screamed away and detonated on the side of the factory building, throwing Ray and everyone near him to the ground and rattling the teeth in his head.

Captain Jeffery Harris's gunner gave a hideous scream as an arrow as big around as a broomstick came crashing through the triple-thick ballistic glass and impaled his shoulder to the seat. Harris reached for the mic and gave a frantic broadcast on open channel.

"Mayday mayday maday, this is Falcon 2-5, I've been hit along the lateral engine line, I'm losing control. Falcon 2-5 going in hard at grid coordinates Six-One-Niner-Niner-Two-Seven."

The craft's rotor began to wobble wildly as one of the support structures that kept it in place started to rattle loose. Captain Harris wrenched on the stick hard, wrestling the bird for control.

"Smitty, are you going to lock the flaps or what? Smitty? Smitty!"

In the front seat Gunnery Seargent Raphael "Smitty" Thomas lay slumped over his control panel, the neurotoxin from the spear coursing through his veins. Around the hole in the canopy the Pandoran atmosphere began to leak in with a carrying hiss. Harris realized in a panic that he was getting light headed and put on his emergency re-breather.

The attack choppers on Pandora were not deployed with ejection seats for a number of reasons, so the only way to get down was to crash with your bird. The Captain had never been a praying man, but now even he murmured a silent plea to the gods under his breath as the three ton hunk of metal screamed into an uncontrollable dive.

Just a second before they crunched into the trees below, Harris closed his eyes. There was a catastrophic crash, and Harris felt all the wind leave his lungs. He pushed open the cockpit and tried to hoist himself out, but all he managed to do was sit and gasp for air like a fish brought to the surface.

He could feel the ambient heat from flames lick his back and knew that if he didn't get out of the wreck soon, he would be just another piece of charred upholstery. With care he undid the harness and dragged himself over the edge. Once on the ground he reached back, grabbed his survival kit and began to crawl away as fast as he could.

There was a whistling sound behind him, getting higher and higher pitched all the time. The pilot tried to throw himself behind a tree, but it was too late. The crashed helicopter exploded, every last drop of fuel igniting in a fireball that swept over Harris's back, singing the hems.

The battle for the prison camp was winding down. The remaining humans had been flushed out of the factory building when it caught fire, and were being marched out in a line, looking shocked and dejected. The others, seeing their last hope for victory crash and burn with the attack helicopter, fled. The afternoon sun had been blotted out almost completely by smoke, and it was through this eerie twilight that Ray saw Pamtseo'Ite.

She let out a joyous cry and they ran into each other's arms, letting the grace of a reunion drown out the chaos of the day. They broke apart and shared a moment lost in each other's eyes.

"When I heard you had been captured, I thought that... I- I thought..." Pamtseo looked at the ground, unable to say the next words.

"I'm not dead yet, not by a long shot."

Pamtseo seemed to take comfort in his words and they departed the center of the camp.

"What happened to your head? And back? Ewya's breath, what did they do they you?"

Ray tried to shrug it off.

"No, nothing, it's fine."

"Come with me, I will find Neytiri. She is better than I at healing such injuries."

* * *

Lieutenant Calley practically cowered as the Colonel's expression grew more furious by the minute.

"This is an outrage! How DARE they?"

The rest of the bridge officers simply looked on in trepidation. The sight of a disciplined and stoic field commander snapping like this was not something you saw every day. Williams' eyes swept around the silent room and he took a deep breath to collect himself.

"All of you, get back to work. Calley, my office, now."

The young lieutenant didn't even bother to salute as he fell in step behind Colonel Williams. The bustle of the bridge died away abruptly as the door to the senior officer's quarters closed shut with a bang. All of a sudden the only sound was the Colonel's chair legs creaking slightly as he rocked back and forth slightly. After a long pause he set one hand on the desk.

"This kind of thing" He said softly "these raids, they have to stop."

The lieutenant nodded just as much as necessary.

"They need to stop right this instant. Today. Now."

"What would you have me do sir?" Calley ventured timidly

The Colonel rubbed his chin pensively and stared at his blurry reflection in the well polished desk.

"Put in a call to ISV Forward Until Victory. Tell them to deploy the jump commandos."

The back of Calley's throat went dry and he swallowed. Jump Commandos were not something to be taken lightly. They were recruited from the worst slums back on Earth and trained for nine grueling months in zero gravity and bitter cold of a massive, deactivated cargo ship stuck in orbit around Luna. The washout rate was almost ninety percent. At any given time there were only a few thousand in existence. How the RDA had managed to acquire the services of a whole squad of them, Calley had no idea, although he guessed that an insane amount of money had changed hands somewhere.

"What orders should they be given?"

"Land on the outskirts of the prison camp, rally the survivors, and counterattack immediately. Do not stop until all indigenous bipedals in that area of operation are terminated."

"Right away sir."

* * *

Ray winced slightly as the large white bandage was wrapped around his chest. The person applying it, a man Jake Sully had introduced him to called "Norm", apologized profusely. After a few uncomfortable minutes, the dressing was on.

"Thanks a lot, that feels better already."

"Doesn't it? All the compounds I used to make it can be found on Pandora. It's practically a medical miracle." Norm replied

Ray grinned "Too bad you can't sell it, I'd buy some."

Norm looked wistful for a moment, and then returned to putting away his medical tools in a duffle bag. At the entrance to the hollow he stopped and stood aside to let in another visitor.

"Oh, hello Neytiri."

"Greetings Norm." Came a cool reply

Ray looked up and saw Neytiri standing over him, a serious look in her eye.

"I need you to come with me. Jake has called a war meeting and asks that you come."

Ray didn't know whether to be flattered or frightened.

"Uh, me? Are you sure?"

Neytiri snickered slightly

"Yes you. I'm not in the wrong place am I? Tomorrow morning at first light. The center of camp."

Without another word she left, the animal hide flap swinging closed behind her.

* * *

Jasper picked up another block of propellant from the table and slotted it into a magazine. The metal box slotted into a pouch on his hip where it stuck snugly. Tight but not too tight. Across from him he saw two other Jump Commandos helping his second in command, a tall raven haired man by the name of Maddox, into his bulky armor. The smooth and polished chest plate mated with the back plate and there was a hiss as the suit pressurized. Lastly, Maddox turned his helmet over in his hands, opening and closing the filter flaps to check for clogs or damage. Of course, the thing was perfect. It was brand new, just like every other gleaming piece of equipment laid neatly on the tables before them.

As he looked over his squad, Jasper couldn't help but smile. He secretly felt a little sorry for whoever or whatever they were being unleashed upon. A single suit of Jump Commando armor cost astronomical amounts of money to produce. The outer layers could shrug off rifle rounds with ease, and the thing had almost a football field's length in wiring. Thermal scans, a powerful broadband uplink, a heads up display, passive movement tracking systems, live tactile feedback, and so much more were all crammed underneath the super dense alloy plating. The outer millimeter of the suit was coated with a nano-material that could change camouflage schemes on the fly.

In short, it was the tool that was going to even the playing field on the ground. That, and the myriad of weapons and explosives provided them by the Resource Development Administration. All heads in the bay turned simultaneously as the airlock cycled open and a pale, thin junior lieutenant stepped through. Jasper had already been introduced to Calley, but knowing who it was didn't make him any less annoyed.

"Good afternoon troopers."

A stony silence greeted him. Without waiting for comment, Calley laid a data screen on the table and pressed a button. A map of the surface of Pandora projected itself several inches into the air above the device.

"Embarkation will begin at no later than 0900 local time. Launch is at 0902. You will be dropped-" The Lieutenant spun the map and zoomed it in to show a topographical map with a finger "-here. The large structure to the north in red is a detention facility for captured locals. The camp we recently overrun by a force of unknown strength. These blue dots are marines in full fighting retreat. Your mission is to locate as many as you can, form a cohesive unit, and take back the camp at any cost."

Lieutenant Calley whisked the map off the table and the hologram disintegrated.

"I should stress the importance of this mission. Your importance is not just tactical, but strategic. We need to set an example for the common marine with this victory."

Jasper rolled his eyes. It was always the brass that had a penchant for melodrama.

"Well, I don't know about all that morale stuff, but I can get you the facility."

Calley sniffed "The commander expects nothing less from his best."

"Damn right we're the best." Jasper muttered

"I have uploaded the relevant information to your local network. A real time map should be up and running by the time you hit the ground."

* * *

The light of bioluminescence cast strange, flickering shadows behind Ray as he sat cross legged, listening to Sully.

"General Williams is getting desperate. No doubt he expected that he would find us unprepared and lacking the resolve to fight."

There were several derisive sounds from the other battle chiefs in the circle.

"Yet, we must not grow overconfident. The sky people have their backs against the wall, and a cornered beast is at its most dangerous. I cannot say at this point what drives them, what they hope to achieve on this world, but I will say this: whatever they do, they WILL fail."

Murmurs of agreement filtered through the sound of rushing water from the stream behind them.


	19. Chapter 19

(A/N: Hey there readers, I'm looking at my watch, and it's telling me that it's time to pester you guys for **reviews**. Seriously though, if you like/don't like the direction the story is going in, have an issue with ICness or some other such complaint/compliment/suggestion, please, by all means drop me a **Review** , it really helps my writing process to have feedback. Also, if I'm being an asshole and haven't updated in a while, just drop me a PM reminder, things are getting kinda busy in my life right now, what with university and friends, it also doesn't help that I have the short term memory of a stoned goldfish. Okay, I'm done bitching at you, enjoy the chapter! _**Oh! Also: if you want to Beta read this fic, PM me, I'm game.**_)

It didn't matter how many times you "jumped". Every time there was fear. Jasper gave his eleven man squad one last look before they all climbed into their drop pods. It was the vehicle that had made the Jump Commandos famous across the terran solar system. One man, one pod, several thousand miles an hour of downward momentum. A digital clock above the hatch changed from 0900 to 0901 and a voice hissed over the speakers.

"This is the flight deck to drop station, please fasten your restraints and secure all lose items in your pod. Checklist is starting. Navigation is go, guidance is go, retro is go, life support is go, we have green across the board. Launch countdown commencing."

The clock blanked and was replaced by a countdown starting at one minute. Jasper pulled the mission plan velcroed to the ceiling and flipped through it one more time, even though he knew it by heart. Excitement was beating in his chest like a crazed animal. Finally they were going to see some action after months of cryo sleep. This is what they lived for. The thrill of the hunt.

"Time minus five seconds, fueling complete, controls are on autopilot, have a nice ride boys, and god be with you."

Jasper counted down the remaining seconds in his head.

_Four, three, two, one..._

Then, the floor fell out beneath him. His knuckles whitened on the handholds as the breathtaking view of Pandora screamed past his window.

"Time on station, three seconds, the clock is running."

There was another almighty jolt as the pod corrected its trajectory to the surface. Out the top porthole Jasper could see the ISV Forward Until Victory fading into a small speck against the blackness of space. Flames began to build up along the outside of the vehicle as they plummeted ever downwards.

"Pitch maneuver complete, retros firing in four seconds, hang on to something." Came the dispassionate voice of the flight commander over the radio. _Easy for him to say_ thought Jasper _sitting up there nice and cozy in zero gravity._

These thoughts were promptly knocked out of his head as the retro rockets on the bottom of the pod fired at full capacity, slowing down what would be an otherwise lethal descent and flinging Jasper to the edge of his harness.

* * *

Txep'it gazed up at the bright specks streaking down through the sky. He had never seen anything like it before. They looked like stars but they were growing bigger by the minute and moving far too fast. He called out to his mother, but she was somewhere out of hearing. Other tribesmen had noticed the impromptu meteor shower as well and some were pointing and conversing in low tones.

The specks dropped below the horizon, and Txep'it stood on tiptoes to try and catch another glimpse of them. He hated being shorter than the other children. It always put him in last place in all the games they played.

Suddenly the point on the horizon where the stars had disappeared glowed brightly. Flames leapt upward briefly and then were still. A few seconds later a distant boom could be heard. Old women stopped their weaving and gasped. Txep'it turned to see his father and two other warriors racing off through the brush towards the source of the light and noise. Txep'it leapt after them excitedly. Finally, some excitement!

Txep'it followed at a distance, knowing that if his father saw him, he would likely order him back to the safety of the village. A harsh light and smell was coming through the trees, the pungent odor of singed grass. Txep'it rounded a corner in the trees and stopped. Where there had once been forest, there was now a clearing blasted. Several egg shaped rocks sat half buried in the dirt, still smoking. He saw one of the warriors approach it cautiously and prod it with the end of his bow.

There was a hiss, and then a bang as a square of the black rock popped off. All of them jumped back and Txep'it let out a squeak of fear. His father turned and Txep'it knew he was in trouble. He had never seen that look in those eyes before. It was fear.

"Txep'it, What are you doing, go back! Go back now!"

A figure was rising out of the egg. It was shorter than the Na'vi who stood stock still around it, arrows drawn. It was like the egg, completely encased in a strange metal whose skin shimmered and changed color blotchily. Three arrows pinged uselessly off the shiny carapace.

* * *

_Bows... _Jasper thought to himself with a smile only he could see _isn't that just precious..._

"You think that's a weapon?" He said over the suits external speakers, whilst reaching behind him for his caseless assault rifle.

"THIS is a weapon."

The last thing any of the tall blue creatures ever saw was the muzzle flash of his gun discharging. Three bodies hit the ground with a dusty thump. Jasper looked over to see the rest of his squad climbing out of their Reentry Vehicles and readying weapons. A scream distracted him and he turned just in time to see a Na'vi child fleeing on nimble legs.

"Oh no you don't you little bastard! Vasquez, runner!"

The squad machine gunner brought his weapon to bear and depressed the trigger.

"Not for long..."

* * *

Txep'it ran as fast as his legs could carry him. His limbs screamed in exhaustion and grief tugged at him, but on he ran, as invisible gnats zipped around him, throwing up puffs of dirt and shredding trees trunks.

* * *

Ray looked up from his food at the sound. He could identify those noises anywhere. Gunshots. Without a word he got up and grabbed the rifle leaning up against the door and ran out into the village. A young Na'vi woman was crying, and several others were consoling her while every able bodied person was gathered in the common area.

Norm and Jake were conversing in hushed voices. Ray made a beeline for them.

"Hey, Sully, what's going on? Are those gunshots?"

Jake broke off his talk and pushed an assault rifle into Norm's hands.

"We heard it too. Come on, there's a kid out there somewhere and I want to make sure he hasn't gone missing. There are RDA soldiers scattered all over the forest right now."

The sound of running feet made them both turn around. A young Na'vi child, no more than ten seasons old broke through the treeline and ran sobbing into his mother's arms.

"You wait here, I'm going to find out what the hell is going on." Jake said tersely

Norm sat down on the ground and laid his weapon on the grass next to him. He looked uncomfortable wielding one. Ray looked down at his own weapon. It was a long marksman rifle he had found lying on the ground after the battle in the compound. A circular reflex sight sat bolted to the top. The polycarbonate frame flexed slightly around the heavy, large caliber barrel. He silently wished that he had been issued rifles this advanced back on Earth. Sully returned to them after a few minutes, and his face was a stony mask of fury.

"They killed Ma'Wappam and two others. I'm going to go find those bastards and get even. You two coming?"

Ray nodded, as did Norm, after some hesitation.

"Right behind you Jake" He intoned nervously

* * *

Jasper crouched low in the underbrush, examining the dead body of a Marine. Half of the soldier was gone, probably eaten by passing wild animals. He silently cursed the savage jungle and returned to where the rest of his squad lay in the shadows, their camouflage shimmering a rich green, the onboard computers adjusting to match the background. With a deep sigh he let his rifle fall to his waist.

"Any sign of the Marines on thermal Peakes?"

The communications specialist shook his head in disgust.

"Cowards are scattered all to hell and gone. None of them are anywhere near our drop zone. The biggest group is about thirty, but they're almost a mile and a half east of us."

Jasper tried to suppress a grin, but failed.

"Man, what is this, Amateur hour? When did the RDA start recruiting ballet dancers? So, where is the closest bunch of these sorry assholes?"

Peakes scrolled over the PDA with a stylus and shook his head.

"Just three guys, a couple hundred meters southwest of us. It looks like they're in a village from the satellite photographs, if you can believe it."

Jasper sighed and rolled his eyes.

"They're probably being held captive. Alright boys, lets move it out, someone has to go save those idiots from the big blue monkeys."

**(A/N Txep'it means "Little Fire".)**


	20. Chapter 20

(Long time no see. I'm updating this because I wanted to finish all my existing fics. I'm taking classes regularly now, so not much time to think about other things. I've been working on a sci-fi epic novel of sorts, and progress has begun to slow, so I'm going to give this a shot instead. Your opinions and reviews are welcome as always.)

When Colin woke, it was raining. His head ached terribly, but when he tried to feel the afflicted area, he found his hands bound around a thick root behind him. He was still in his uniform, minus everything else, including his boots. If he had to describe the cramped, dark space he was in, he would probably use the word "cellar". A wooden hatch lay up a small slope ahead of him, and the grey light filtered through, as did a constant trickle of water that wound its way down and out of sight behind him. The floor was mossy and cool, which was a relief as he was tied in a very uncomfortable position.

He craned his neck backwards and saw two other men tied to the roots that lined the walls and made up the roof. Both of them were wearing fire-resistant flight jumpsuits bearing Forward Until Victory insignia. One of them was lying slack against his restraints, his lower body immersed in a pool of water, his guidance helmet still strapped on. Colin shimmied around the root he was tied to until he was facing the second pilot and gave him a firm kick in the leg. The man jerked awake with a muffled yell.

"Shh!" Colin hissed. "Shut up!"

He waved his hands, gesturing for the pilot to keep quiet. There was no telling who was standing outside.

"Who are you?" The man hissed back.

" Private First Class Colin Hargreaves, 3rd Battalion, D Company."

" Captain Jeffery Harris, 1st Combat Support Aviation Wing."

"What about the other guy?" Colin asked, indicating the man slumped in the shallow pool.

The Captain shook his head.

"My gunner. He's gone, I already checked."

"How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. Maybe a few days, maybe a few hours, who knows?"

Their conversation was interrupted by voices outside. They both strained to listen, but the voice was speaking in the native language. After a few minutes the trapdoor opened. They caught a glimpse of trees and a sky completely obscured by clouds, before two figures stepped in, blocking the harsh brightness of the outside world. Colin felt panic rising in his chest. He recoiled as they stepped forward, but they brushed past him, cutting Captain Harris and his co-pilot's corpse from their bindings. The Captain attempted to resist as soon as he was loose, but long, powerful limbs pinned him and forced him to obey. As quickly as they had entered, they were gone, whisking the two humans away with them and plunging him into darkness again.

No one, human or otherwise, returned for him that day. Even the small sliver of light that penetrated the hatch grew dimmer with time, until it was gone completely. The silence gathered about his ears like a blanket and he wanted to scream, but didn't dare. So he sat, and waited. Sensing the night's embrace, the carpet of moss that he lay on began to glow softly, and tendrils of light snaked up the uneven walls. The rain didn't cease all that night, but continued to flow underneath the door and down into the pool at the bottom of the room. He shivered and bitterly cursed the damp that allowed the breeze to cut right through his skin to the very bone. He drifted in and out of sleep that night, strange dreams merging with waking reality in a delirium until at last he drifted off entirely into oblivion.

* * *

Jasper silently thanked the RDA procurement system for their equipment. The whole squad was hunkered down in a thick stand of rushes, letting the wind and rain lash harmlessly against their metal skin. The active camouflage shimmered, projecting a chameleon-like image onto its surface. The only way a skilled observer could locate them was by the matte black barrels which gently parted the reeds on either side of them. He made a mental note to fix this with some spray-on pigment the next time it stopped raining. _If it ever stops raining_ he thought, bitterly.

From their position they could see into a shallow river valley next to them that went down a few dozen feet or so before rising up again on the far side. They waited like this for another half hour. At that time, Jasper gave the signal and they moved out again, bounding with purpose through the trees and scrub, careful to avoid exposing themselves to the opposite wall of the canyon. They had been advancing towards this landmark for the better part of the day, skirting around the overrun prison to the south to avoid the large Na'vi presence still encamped there when Jasper had spotted a group of unidentified radio beacons on his helmet's display. Weak though the signal was, it lay directly between them and the first group of soldiers they had been tasked with freeing.

The tree trunks grew thicker and wider as they descended, so that the going grew difficult in their armor, which made them much more prone to tripping or becoming entangled. The canyon leveled out into a large stream, which was swollen far beyond its banks. Jasper held up a clenched fist and his squad froze in unison. He looked to the far bank of the stream, where the beacons were spread out in three meter intervals. He switched his radio to the proper channel and broadcast a message, purposely restricting the power so that its range was only a few hundred feet.

"This is Viper-1. Any Section Operations units hearing this message, please respond."

There was a long pause, and he was about to repeat the call, when another voice came in over his helmet's speakers.

" Roger that Viper-1, this is Corporal Peakes, 2nd Battalion, A Company, we read you five-by-five. Are you the rescue, over?"

"That is affirmative Corporal. Be advised, Viper observes your position on the riverbank and is about to cross over your field of fire, over." Jasper replied, motioning his squad to advance.

They waded through the tugging current, weapons held above their waists to keep them as dry as possible, although at this point it hardly mattered where they held them. Armored feet sunk and churned in the muddy bank as they emerged from the stream. The soldiers waiting for them looked soaked but undefeated. One of them emerged from under a tarp that was draped between low-hanging tree branches and gave him a very cursory salute.

"Corporal Peakes?" Jasper inquired.

The soldier nodded.

"You the highest ranking man here?"

The soldier nodded again. Jasper suppressed a sigh.

"Alright. Show me where the enemy positions are. We have to be right next to a village."

"With respect sir, I haven't seen a map in days, I have no fucking idea what we're close to. The cloud cover is playing hell with our data uplink."

"I'll be taking command then. I have a direct line to the ship."

The corporal turned and began to walk the other direction, away from the stream. Jasper followed and gestured to his men to take up positions, which they did. They walked a short distance, and then stopped. In front of them the trees abruptly halted. A clearing had been bulldozed along this portion of the hill, and marker stakes still lay embedded in the rapidly-eroding soil, signaling a long-absent miner's interest in this portion of land. Where the dirt had been washed away, large boulders stuck out of the side of the hill like teeth. Peakes pointed at the lip of the canyon.

"Take a look at the ridge. I counted fifteen, maybe twenty natives dug in up there. Some of 'em are in the trees, some of 'em are on the ground, but it's hard to make out. There could be more."

Jasper began to step forward, but the Corporal put a hand out in front of him.

"Not so fast, Patton. They know we're down here. They're just waiting."

He pointed again, and Jasper saw a corpse lying face down at the base of the hill, half buried by the mud.

"And watching."

There was a long pause, and then Peakes turned and walked back to his men.

"I'll leave you to it then, sir."

Jasper said nothing, but continued to scan the ridge. Thermal imaging confirmed the corporal's suspicions, but not his estimate. There were far more than fifteen warm bodies sitting up on the ridge. He examined the top down thermal map again. The village sat just beyond the ridge, down a short embankment. Jasper remained motionless, sizing up his chances. He could already tell that an unsupported frontal assault would not work. The ground was slippery and unstable, and movement would be slow, unless they could find a way to buy some time while they covered the distance.

Mendoza, the squad marksman, materialized at his elbow.

"You got a plan sir?"

Jasper smiled. "I always have a plan."

* * *

"Please, you must go, it is no longer safe here!"

Even as she spoke the words, Pamtseo'ite knew that they were futile. The old Na'vi shook her head.

"You do not understand. As long as the bones of my ancestors rest beneath this ground, I will never leave."

At this the wizened woman turned away from the doorway and vanished into the tree. Recognizing a hopeless cause, Pamtseo turned away and stepped into the rain. The monsoon season had arrived quickly, and with a bottled fury that she had not seen in many years. Most of the village had been evacuated. She could not understand how, despite the victory earlier that week, they were still not in control. The only two people who could have explained it to her, Jake and Ray, had vanished into the forest along with Norm and several cases of human munitions.

She let her feet carry her on one of the well worn paths between the jumbled tree roots, down to where the cooperative prisoner was digging holes in the ground. She tried not to look at the row of Na'vi who lay motionless, shoulder to shoulder with their eyes closed in a last sleep. He wore a strange coverall-type outfit, and looked up furtively as she approached.

"Is your friend ready to rejoin the world of the living?" She asked haltingly, trying to remember the words Ray had taught her.

The man shrugged and continued with his work. Pamtseo passed him and walked over to the base of a particularly big tree. She pulled open the trapdoor at its base and slid inside, closing it behind her. The soldier did not look up as she walked over and sat down beside him. A small portion of food lay on a fern leaf within arms reach of him. Despite the fact that he was now only bound by one arm, he had not touched it.

"It's not poisoned, you know." She said softly

There was no reply. His gaze did not move at all. There was something familiar about that stare, some part of that emptiness that she had seen before.

"You can come up any time you want, you know. You just have to make the choice."

Still, there was no response. Thoroughly irritated by the humans attitude as well as the unyielding weather, she stood up and began to walk away.

"Fine. We can play that game too. I've got all the time in the world."

"No you don't."

It was the calm, matter-of-factness with which he spoke that made her turn around.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Suddenly, she could feel her anger jumping in her throat, but she kept it from her face, knowing it was exactly the response the young soldier was trying to provoke.

"You think that if you kill us, you will win."

"That's how you win a war, isn't it?"

"Not this war. Kill a dozen, kill us all, it doesn't matter. There will be another starship behind us, and another behind that one. Maybe you win today. Here. But tomorrow? Tomorrow belongs to us, because we won't ever stop until this planet belongs to us."

It was the defiant smile that pushed her over the edge. With lightning quickness she was upon him, swinging wildly while he thrashed around in the water, sputtering. She would have continued until he was dead had strong hands not grabbed her and pulled her away. The soldier sat up, gasping and feeling his throat, where large finger marks were already flushing with color. She tried to break free, but the arms were strong as old growth wood and dragged her out of the room.

She looked up and saw that the arms belonged to Tsteu, one of the militia. Pamtseo regained her composure with some effort. She had never experienced a hate quite like that, and its intensity frightened her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what-" She began to explain, but Tsteu raised a hand.

"You let him get under your skin."

Pamtseo nodded, feeling her cheeks burn. How could she have fallen for it, when she had known what he was trying to do the whole time?

"Do not let your desire for revenge become your reason for fighting. That is what separates us from them. We fight to save. They fight to destroy."

An awkward silence followed, and Tsteu gestured towards the canyon.

"Why don't you go take my post next to Eyktan? I will deal with our little friend."

"Thank you Tsteu."

She took a step back, and jumped upwards, grabbing a branch and pulling herself up onto it. She quickly scaled up to the canopy level and slid over to where a sentry sat, the rain dripping from his face and down his legs and tail. He was looking through the sight of a human weapon down onto the river below, and did not look up.

"You should put that bow aside and grab one of these. There are plenty down in the trunk of this village's mother tree."

"Thank you Eyktan, but I think I will decline."

Ray had tried to get her to take one of them before he had left, and she had refused. They felt lifeless and imbalanced, devoid of all the familiarity that a weapon made by ones own hands brought. Eyktan shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

They both sat there for a moment, the branch underneath them drooping slightly with their combined weight.

"Have they moved yet?"

"I don't think so. One of my men would have seen them leave."

"Perhaps we should go. There are other places that need our help-"

"No." Eyktan said firmly, cutting across her. "I have my orders. My men must hold this ground. Jake-"

"Orders! Men! You sound just like the humans Eyktan. All they ever speak of is orders. Just because you separated a bunch of boys from their mothers and gave them all rifles-"

Eyktan, who had sit stock still until this moment, whipped around.

"They volunteered! They willingly pledged their lives to Eywa and took up arms in her service without question, which is more than can be said of YOU!"

Silence reigned again for a moment, broken only by the patter of raindrops. Pamtseo looked away first.

"I am sorry. I should not have questioned you."

"We are all making sacrifices, Pamtseo, not just those boys, everyone."

Both their ears pricked up at a distant whining noise. It had begun low and soft, at the edge of even their sensitive hearing, but now both of their ears cocked back as it grew exponentially closer and louder. A fraction of a second later something roared overhead, and was gone just as quickly, leaving their vicinity with a deep rumble that Pamtseo could feel in her chest.

* * *

Jasper checked the time display as the hoverjet screamed overhead and dropped its payload. They were on time, even a little early. He looked left, and right, giving the soldiers and commandos around him one last appraisal before returning his vision to the ridge line. The parachute on the payload deployed, and it drifted towards the ground.

The thermobaric weapon was an ancient device whose design and use had changed little over the years. It was composed of two parts, a large canister of a jellied fuel agent that rapidly converted to a gas when it was exposed to the air, and an ignition charge. Jasper's fears that conditions were prohibitively wet were soon proved unfounded.

Without warning, a massive fireball winked in existence. The sound reached them a second before the pressure wave, making the trees around them sway. Jasper's suit automatically tinted his visor to shield his eyes from the harsh light of the conflagration, which rose in a classic mushroom cloud before being cooled to smoke and dissipated by the foggy air.

Then began the mad dash over open ground. Vasquez pounded away on his heavy machine gun as the rest of them scrambled forward, taking cover where they could. The first indication that the bomb had not been one hundred percent effective came with the first snaps of return fire. Jasper hit the ground and began shooting up towards the ridge, not knowing if any of his bullets met their mark.

"Come on, keep moving, don't bog down!" He yelled.

Four of his commandos reached the top of the embankment first and tossed grenades over, sending plumes of dirt soaring skywards. The marine squad, emboldened by their comrades, rushed forward, firing as they came. The trouble really started when the unarmored troopers did not stop at the embankment, but continued over.

"Shit." Jasper whispered to himself, in between labored breaths. "Vasquez, get up there and make sure they have covering fire!"

The rifle fire intensified as Jasper threw himself onto the embankment and peeked over. The bomb had left a circle of complete destruction, as though the surface of hell had broken through for just a moment. Most of the foliage had been vaporized, and only the charred trunks of the larger trees remained. He could see Peakes realizing his mistake, but by then it was too late, and the soldiers were out in the open, completely devoid of cover. Several of them were hit immediately, and the rest hit the deck, letting their ammo loose in a desperate barrage. The Drop Commandos fired their weapons as well, and Jasper waved the squad forward by twos. Rounds whizzed around them, the occasional one bouncing off a plate, throwing his accuracy off. They kept advancing under the protective blanket of Vasquez's heavy machine gun until they were standing in front of the marines, forming a physical wall. He heard a cry of pain over the net and turned to see one of his men clutching a knee joint, his weapon forgotten.

They were stuck, being unable to move forward or retreat. Jasper made a frantic assessment of the situation and came to the conclusion that they would either outlast their opponents or run out of ammunition. Luckily, after just a few minutes, the return fire began to taper off rapidly, until there was none left. Suddenly, they found themselves alone once again. None of them moved for a long while, until the cries of the wounded marines grew too pressing to ignore. The combat medics, one of his and one of Peakes, went to work immediately, and the rest fanned out finding cover behind fallen trees and burnt stumps. The ground steamed where they set their feet, even as the rain continued to fall.

"Did we get 'em?"

"Some of them. The rest must have retreated." Jasper replied.

An incredible weariness wrapped around him, but he brushed it aside easily. Now was not the time for weakness, now was the time to capitalize on their hard-won victory. He found Peakes in one piece and took him aside.

"Take your squad and start excavating some fighting holes. Make sure to put some drainage in."

"Sir? We're digging in?"

"We don't have any other choice. One of my men's been shot through the knee and I'd say a good third of your squad is combat ineffective. We'll hold what we've got and send out a transmission to any other squads that might still be bumping around out there."

"What about retaking the prison, sir?" The Corporal asked, before adding quickly "-not that I'm complaining, of course."

"To hell with that. The more I think about the mission objectives, the more full of shit they seem. There's maybe, a hundred marines still alive out there? Tops? Even if they all found us at once, I doubt we could make it there in one piece, let alone route a whole contingent of those bastards."

"Yeah, didn't seem like a smart idea to me either." Peakes said dryly.

"Hey Jasper, we got a live one. Two of 'em."

Jasper turned to see Vasquez leading two soldiers towards them, one of them obviously a pilot.

"That's one less than we came here to find."

"You talking about my gunner? He's dead." The pilot said.

"Yeah, what about you flyboy? Can you fight?" Jasper replied.

"I did BCT, same as the rest of you. I can hold down my sector."

"Good. Then go help the marines. They could use another shovel."

* * *

The first reminder that she was alive was the pain. Pamtseo opened her eyes, but there was no light. She could feel the cool mud sucking at her back, wicking away the burning sensation. She moved all her extremities and, finding that none were broken, attempted to shift whatever was on top of her. It resisted, but she pulled her feet to her chest and pushed out hard. The large slab of splintered wood moved off of her, and the rainwater splashed in, making her choke and splutter.

She looked around, trying to remember what had happened. One moment she was sitting in the tree next to Eyktan, and the next there was a roar and... heat... there had been an incredible heat.

Then, she realized what she was looking at and froze in terror.

The village, Kayrsk, was gone. The gnarled, fuzed things that used to be trees still gave off a heady smoke that was whipped away by the merciless wind. Dead Na'vi militia lay around her at regular intervals, burned and maimed corpses, some near enough to touch. Several groups of humans were picking through the ruins just yards away, and she could hear more behind her. No one had noticed the piece of wood move, so she let her body lie there, pretending the same slumber that her kinsmen now slept.

She watched the soldiers digging in the muck. Occasionally one of the armored monsters would wander into her field of view. A group of them was erecting some kind of metal pole amidst the destruction. She caught a glimpse of the uncooperative one, Colin, hauling the bodies of her comrades out of the way. His carelessness made her want to scream out that those things that he was throwing around used to be living breathing people, with dreams and fears and hopes.

Instead, she rolled over onto her side and began to crawl away, as slowly as she dared. She twisted her body around the stump, inching like a worm, one limb at a time. She heard footsteps and froze, pretending to be dead again. She waited a while, and heard no more footsteps. Deciding it was safe, she began to move again.

Then, disaster.

"A-ha! I knew that one looked a little too fresh to be dead!"

She felt a hand grab her and reacted instinctively, rolling onto her back and reaching out with her arms. Her fingers found the soldier's exo-pack tube and yanked hard, severing it from the tank on his back. Before he had time to react she planted her foot firmly in his chest, and was rewarded by a crack. The man collapsed to the ground wheezing.

She was about to get up when something hard struck her head.


	21. Chapter 21

**He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you. -Friedrich Nietzsch  
**

The first reminder that she was alive was the pain. Pamtseo opened her eyes, but there was no light. She could feel the cool mud sucking at her back, wicking away the burning sensation. She moved all her extremities and, finding that none were broken, attempted to shift whatever was on top of her. It resisted, but she pulled her feet to her chest and pushed out hard. The large slab of splintered wood moved off of her, and the rainwater splashed in, making her choke and splutter.

She looked around, trying to remember what had happened. One moment she was sitting in the tree next to Eyktan, and the next there was a roar and... heat... there had been an incredible heat.

Then, she realized what she was looking at and froze in terror.

The village, Kayrsk, was gone. The gnarled, fuzed things that used to be trees still gave off a heady smoke that was whipped away by the merciless wind. Dead Na'vi militia lay around her at regular intervals, burned and maimed corpses, some near enough to touch. Several groups of humans were picking through the ruins just yards away, and she could hear more behind her. No one had noticed the piece of wood move, so she let her body lie there, pretending the same slumber that her kinsmen now slept.

She watched the unarmored ones digging in the muck. Occasionally one of the armored monsters would wander into her field of view. A group of them was erecting some kind of metal pole amidst the destruction. She caught a glimpse of the uncooperative one, Colin, hauling the bodies of her comrades out of the way. His carelessness made her want to scream out that those things that he was throwing around used to be living breathing people, with dreams and fears and hopes.

Instead, she rolled over onto her side and began to crawl away, as slowly as she dared. She twisted her body around the stump, inching like a worm, one limb at a time. She heard footsteps and froze, pretending to be dead again. She waited a while, and heard no more footsteps. Deciding it was safe, she began to move again.

Then, disaster.

"A-ha! I knew that one looked a little too fresh to be dead!"

She felt a hand grab her and reacted instinctively, rolling onto her back and reaching out with her arms. Her fingers found the soldier's exo-pack tube and yanked hard, severing it from the tank on his back. Before he had time to react she planted her foot firmly in his chest, and was rewarded by a crack. The man collapsed to the ground wheezing.

She was about to get up when something hard struck her head.

* * *

Captain Harris saw the whole scene unfold. He was sitting cross legged on the edge of a trench, trying to forget the bone-chilling deluge, when he spotted something moving on the ground next to Corporal Peakes, who was supervising the group conducting corpse disposal detail. A second later, the Corporal spotted it too. One of the Na'vi was attempting to crawl away from the crater and towards the shelter of the trees beyond. Harris froze, watching Peakes cry out, and then attempt to grab the creature. His touch caused a sudden a frightening transformation. The alien was somewhat smaller than the others, and obviously female. A single stripe of war paint still adorned her cheeks, and her hands were covered in blood. These hands shot out without warning and ripped away the air supply tube from Peakes' face, dealing him a wicked blow with her feet as well.

The Private, Colin, saw what was happening and sprinted over. The Na'vi began to push herself to her feet, but the soldier let out a cry of rage and smashed his rifle butt into the side of her head. She fell to her hands and knees, and Colin kicked her savagely to the ground. After a few more seconds of this, Jasper intervened, physically pulling him off and sitting him down forcefully. The medics moved in to help Peakes, who was coughing up a rich red flow.

"What happened?"

"This one was just playing dead."

Jasper cast a look around at the rest of the men on burial detail who had stopped their work to stare.

"Check the rest of them. Make sure they're dead."

The soldiers began moving down the row of enemy casualties, placing two fingers briefly at each neck.

"What should we do with this one, sir?" A soldier asked.

Jasper paused, and looked back over at Peakes, whose eyes were now staring glassily at the grey sky.

"We don't have room or men to spare for prisoners. Shoot it, bury it with the rest."

"Wait!" Harris interjected, getting to his feet.

Both Jasper and Colin, who had has rifle already in hand, froze and stared at him. The Captain gulped. He didn't know why he was doing this, but he did know that the being before them did not deserve such a fate.

"We should wait for an opinion from HighCom before we make that decision."

"Oh really, and why is that?" Jasper asked, turning around a taking a step closer.

Captain Harris held his ground, refusing to be intimidated by some he outranked.

"Operational Procedure mandates protecting all sources of intelligence until support has had time to evaluate them."

"That 'thing' is not a source of intelligence."

"You don't know that." The Captain replied

The words reverberated lamely, but he kept his face stoic. Jasper fixed with a stare for a long moment, his icy blue eyes boring into the Captain's. Then, he turned away.

"Have it your way then. But you're responsible for it. If it breaks loose and kills someone else, it will be your fault."

Colin flashed him a filthy look before letting his rifle rest back in its sling and returning to the digging, which had begun again in earnest. Harris grabbed the motionless Na'vi underneath the arms and dragged her back to the communication trench, sitting her down across from the transmitter. He bound her hands and feet with flexi-cuffs, and then plugged his guidance helmet into one of the jacks in the antenna.

"Godfather, Godfather, come in Godfather."

A burst of static followed, and he frowned, straining his eyes to see the frequency settings in the dim light. He adjusted them and tried again.

"Godfather, this Falcon 2-5, come in, over."

The response was horribly garbled, but he could hear the listless voice of HighCom's dispatcher in the mix somewhere.

"Say again Fal-shhhh-, coming in weak and unreadable, try-shhhh-"

He slapped the transmitter in frustration and tweaked the controls, trying to hone in on the voice.

"Godfather, this is Falcon 2-5, come in, over."

"Read you loud and clear 2-5, what's the situation down there, over?"

The volume of the broadcast almost deafened him, and he quickly turned it down.

"Viper has secured the hill, but we need resupply and reinforcements to complete the primary objective."

"Scratch the primary 2-5, thermal is picking up several groups of native fighters moving to counterattack. Your new objective is to is hold the hill and disperse all enemy formations. Reinforcements are on their way, and I've got a medivac bird tasked to you. Further fire support is also coming on station. If you think you're going to be overrun, don't hesitate."

"What about the Drop Commando's, over?" The Captain asked.

"HighCom is tasking them with another high value target, so they won't be sticking around. There will be a commissioned officer on the next flight out to relieve you of command. Godfather, over and out."

The speakers in his helmet went dead again and he unplugged his auxiliary cable from the tower. Movement caught his eye and he looked left to see the Na'vi beginning to stir. Thinking quickly he went over to the supply cache, which sat underneath a tarp, hastily erected to keep the extra ammunition dry. He rummaged through the steel cans until he found the epi-pens of morphine, and returned to the captive. As gently as he could he pricked the skin and delivered the dose. Immediately she settled into a deeper slumber. He wasn't a doctor, and so couldn't speculate if the drug would have any adverse effects on her biology, but at least she would be out of her misery for the time being.

Using this opportunity to study the alien, he ran his fingers over her head and back. Several bruises were begging to form, swelling where Colin had laid into her. He glanced over once more at Peakes' lifeless form, and wondered how one small act of pity could ever begin to redeem this godawful, intractable mess.

* * *

The pilot's hand shook slightly on the stick. He hadn't slept in almost two days straight. War did not sleep. It did not grow hungry, or tired, or afraid. For the past forty eight hours he had been running sorties with the dropship, back and forth, back and forth. His bay was, for once, clear of men waiting to die, whether on the long, quiet ride out, or the screaming, bloody trip back to unload the wounded. Standard issue go-pills only went so far, and the pilot could feel himself reaching his limit. He steadied himself and took a deep breath. Last run, he thought fervently, then you can sleep.

The bird was sluggish and unresponsive, weighed down by the huge crates of ammo that had been loaded aboard. Two other dropships flanked him, riding the invisible pressure wake he left behind. They skated just above the cloud layer, watching the roiling mass of grey below with something approaching awe. Occasionally a bolt of lightning would crackle between the clouds. He glanced over at the holographic map of his flight plan once more, and then pushed the stick forward gently, sending the craft pitching into the abyss below. For a moment he was blinded by the fog. Condensation gathered on his windscreen and wicked away in fat drops. The rumble of thunder sounded somewhere off to their left, a rolling boom that set everyone's teeth on edge, if they were not already.

Then they broke free and the relentless rain began to pound at them. Visibility wasn't much better below the cloud cover, so the pilot kept one eye on his radar, guiding the formation over the myriad of obstacles, most of them obscured by the weather. Twice the humidity almost proved too much for his engines. They sputtered and whined as he put them through their paces, diving down into a ravine and up the other side without clipping a single tree.

Suddenly, a door gunner pointed down.

"There it is!"

He could see it clearly as they streaked across the sky. A volcanic island of black ash in a sea of green. He rolled to the left and pulled up sharply, turning around and killing most of his verticle momentum. The dropship shimmied a little, and then, like a trainer calming a skittish racehorse, he eased the bird down onto the uneven ground.

"Down the ramp, go, go, go!" The Crew Chief bellowed.

The Loadmaster unhooked the pallets from their moorings and slid them out into the mud, one after another.

* * *

Ray watched the convoy of air transports lift off again, the billowing air whipping the branches across their arms and face.

"Shit." He muttered.

"What's wrong?"

"They're reinforcing. It's going to cost Jake to take that hill now."

"Oh." Norm said simply.

For the life of him, Ray could not understand why Jake insisted on dragging Norm along. He meant well, but as Ray's father had reminded him time and time again: "The road to hell is paved with good intentions". The gangly scientist had done nothing but slow them down, and as a result they had lost the Drop Commandos in the jungle. Then Jake had ditched him to assume command of a large formation of mounted Na'vi and had gone galloping back off into the undergrowth, leaving Ray and Norm to blunder through the rain to their objective. What he really wanted, more than anything, was to find out where Pamtseo had gotten to. He couldn't remember when they had been separated, but he hadn't seen in her in more than a week, and something odd inside he chest throbbing just thinking about it, and mulling over all the terrible possibilities.

Now they both sat motionless, well, motionless save for Norm's shivering, suspended in the thick branches of a tree. Ray stared down the massive barrel of an Anti-Material rifle he had lugged along with them. He silently thanked Eywa that he had not chosen to simply toss the heavy gun aside when it started raining. For once, Norm had actually taken the lead while he wheezed and puffed the container uphill and downhill. The erstwhile researcher was staring through an outsized pair of field binoculars.

"What are they doing?"

"Which one?" Ray said, scanning the hillside.

"Those two, the ones shaking hands."

Ray brought his scope on target just in time to see a man in a pilot's uniform salute a uniformed officer.

"Good eyes Norm. He must be taking control. I relieve you, I stand relieved, and all that good shit."

"Maybe you should take him out."

Ray chuckled.

"I like your thinking Norm, but no, we'd just get stitched up and mister pilot over there would take his old position back. No, Jake's people aren't far behind, besides, we're not after officers."

Just as Ray said this he spotted what he WAS after. The Drop Commandos walked in a double line, five on each side and one extra bringing up the front. The lead man saluted the new officer, and words were exchanged. Ray wondered to himself what kind of ruthless psychopath dwelt withing that armor. He had heard stories about the DC's, about their brutal training, their brutal tactics. His index finger itched at the heavy trigger, the crosshairs aligned perfectly on the bulky helmet. Somewhere, an angel was screaming "Do it you fucker, DO IT!".

The exchange concluded, and the formation marched out again, this time away from the perimeter, towards the canyon.

"Are they... leaving?" Norm said, frustration etched in every syllable.

"I think so." Ray replied

An unnatural rustling noise carried above the cacophony of raindrops and piqued their sensitive hearing. Ray looked down and saw Na'vi warriors creeping through the brush. A moment later Jake was speaking into his earpiece.

"You in position Ray?"

"Been sittin' here for hours waiting for you to finish playing hero." Ray half-teased.

"Well I'm all done now, so you can go to work as soon as I give the word." Jake replied, his good-natured humor strained almost to breaking by the events of the last few days.

"You should probably climb down now, Norm. Once I start shooting this baby it's going to get LOUD."

Norm didn't protest, and soon has was shimmying down the tree to join the warriors below.

"Ambush!"

The yell came from the hill, high and clear, a terrible word, which seemed to make everyone stop for a whole, terrifying second. Without waiting to see who had been spotted, Ray picked out his first target and gently squeezed the trigger.

THOOM.

The rifle gave a terrific clap and the soldier was thrown bodily to the ground, which rapidly began to darken with his blood. All around the clearing, Na'vi broke cover and began to sprint. More shooters in the trees opened up on the enemy position. The RDA troops quickly got over their surprise and manned their weapons. Mortars whistled overhead and landed with thumps of thunder-like concussion, mixing dirt with the rain that poured out of the heavens and down onto the hellish scene below.

THOOM.

Ray took out a soldier who was attempting to re-man a machine gun nest.

THOOM.

Another bullet severed the communications mast nearly in half. It listed crazily and then crumpled, adding to the carnage. Several rounds snapped over his head and he curled in farther towards the tree, attempting to shield himself. He peeked out again, trying to spot a new target.

Suddenly, something fell on him.

It wasn't the first time Ray had been shot, but nobody was ever ready for the sensation. It started off simple, like someone swinging a sledgehammer into his shoulder. He recoiled and lost his balance, tumbling out of the tree and striking the ground face-first. Thankfully he had the where-with-all to roll over immediately to avoid the twenty six pound rifle that smacked into the wet earth a second later, crushing the point he had just been a second before. He lay still for a moment, the sounds of battle forgotten. A moan passed his lips. His shoulder began to burn as though it were pressed against a hot poker.

He reached deep, and found his inner strength, letting it flow into his aching body. Slowly, he got to his knees, and then to his feet.

* * *

Pamtseo drifted between worlds. Light and darkness flashed in ever more complex patterns. She was aware of the great, terrible noise of reality trying to break through. She attempted to push it away. Whatever reality had become, she didn't know If she wanted to be a part of it anymore. Her home had been turned into a living hell, and nothing was sacred, not the trees nor the peaceful silence nor even life itself. A sluggishness pulsed through her veins, whispering tantalizing lullabies. Gradually, the noise grew more insistent, until she could pick out the harsh shouts of humans. At this, a familiar emotion blazed in her chest: anger. No. Not simply anger, hatred. It coiled in a red mist, spiraling up her spine, licking her with its maddening tongues of flame, prodding her to action.

She opened her eyes.

There was so much happening at once that she could not take in any of it for a few seconds. The only word to describe it was chaos. Men lay dead everywhere. Young bodies, rent asunder by savage weaponry. The rest still cowered behind their sandbags and in their dugouts. Scattered groups firing in all directions. A great blue tide was pressing up the hill, and at it's head she could clearly see Jake, riding hell for leather, pistol in one fist, grenade in the other. The tide broke upon the ashen shores of the human positions, overwhelming them.

Two pairs of boots jumped into the trench with a muddy splash. Pamtseo peeked through her eyelids, pretending to be dead once again. Colin and another soldier ducked under the shattered antenna that lay draped like a fallen tree across the trench. Pamtseo felt her hand reaching to her belt for something that Ray had given her before he had left. Her fingers closed around its hilt and drew it slowly. She crept closer, her throbbing head threatening to incapacitate her. She found that she no longer cared that bullets were zipping just inches overhead. The hate bubbled beneath her chest. She had only one goal in mind.

The other soldier took a round under the chin and slumped into the muck, twitching. Colin turned to run, and ran straight into the Na'vi. With viper-like quickness her arm shot out and buried the knife in his shoulder. He didn't have time to do much except stare at her in shock and drop his weapon. It was not long until he had joined his friend in oblivion. Pamtseo reached out for the hilt of the knife, but found she did not have the heart left to pull it out. She felt the bile rise in her throat and sat back down, retreating once more into her own mind.

**Rate&Review. The last chapter is coming. *Ominous drums***


	22. Chapter 22

(A/N: This is it. The last chapter, the victory lap, if you will. Thank you to all the people who reviewed and critiqued, your comments help me become a better writer.)

Jake looked out over the hill with a mixture of pride and anguish. Many innocent beings had been eviscerated, and for what, he wondered. So that they could have this bald and blasted hill? It had once been a part of the forest, a place for things to grow and flourish, but now it was only a graveyard. The rain had at last let up. The faintest of drizzles still fell to earth. The sun had burned through the clouds in some places, and great fingers of sunlight reached down to touch the ground.

That was when he saw Ray. A caseless rifle and a bandolier of ammunition was slung over his shoulders. He walked with a single-minded purpose, treading over and around the dead and dying, marching through the puddles of murky water with his eyes focused on something in the distance. Jake reached out a hand to stop him, and he almost stumbled.

"Where are you going?"

"To find those drop commandos." He said blankly, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"All right. I won't stop you. But you should take these. You're going to need them."

Jake reached into his pack and withdrew a pair of fragmentation grenades. Ray took them and turned to walk away.

In the distance, there came a sound. The only thing Jake could describe it as was a faint thumping, like someone striking a pillow. Ray looked back one last time.

"You should get everyone into the treeline. Now."

* * *

"Lieutenant, fire support request incoming, top priority."

"Send it."

Gunnery Officer Sands was awake instantly. A red light winked on on the console before him and he flicked the switch next to it. The light changed to green and a voice came over the headset.

"Godfather, this is Viper-2, broken spear, I say again, broken spear. Requesting artillery support, immediate suppression, gridmarks to follow, over."

"I copy Viper-2, send your traffic."

With his other hand, Sands motioned his second in command. She sent the order. Five stories above them, through several feet of concrete and earth, the crew manning the railgun batteries began loading a twenty-five round salvo into the hoppers.

"Gridmarks are as follows; Lima Charlie, two six six one, over."

"Copy that, sending."

The battery fired its first shots with a muffled boom, making the whole room vibrate slightly.

"Shot over."

* * *

Jasper waved to Mendoza, and the marksman pushed himself into a crouch and crawled over, keeping his head low.

"Get up there and see if you can spot the fall of those rounds."

Mendoza clambered part way up a large boulder that stuck out of the ground next to them, perched on the edge of the valley.

"Looks like they're dispersing already. They know something's up."

"Then give corrections to the gunline. They'll make sure they hit them."

"No, I mean they're scattering. All directions."

There had been no time to regroup, and Jasper assumed that the rest of his crew were dead. He felt a pang in a part of him that he almost didn't remember existed, but it was quickly replaced an emotion he felt more comfortable with: hate. He loathed the blue creatures, he realized. They had no right to take his squad from him, filled with men who had stories of their own, much longer and more detailed than any of these squatting primitives could even begin to comprehend.

It was a last desperate act, almost child-like in its petulance. There was no hope of retaking the hill, or completing any of the other ridiculous objectives he had been assigned. There was only time for one last swipe in revenge. The hypervelocity rounds arced over their heads with a low, accusing moan and impacted. Each massive shell tore up a giant fist of earth and plant matter and sent it hurtling upwards.

* * *

Leaves clung at him, branches grasped his clothing and creeping vines smacked his face until it was numb, but on her ran, tirelessly. Not even the terrifyingly near boom of artillery could turn him. He knew that it was targeting the hill, and he knew Pamtseo was somewhere on that hill, but he was to far away now to do her any good. The knowledge of his helplessness inspired a rage within him, and he redoubled his pace.

He spotted the first commando sitting atop the curve of a boulder, where he had expected him to be, with a clear line of sight. Ray stopped running and stared, letting the seconds tick by. When the other commando did not appear, he craned his neck, but he could still see nothing. The noise of explosions hammered at his mind, screaming for him to act, quickly. If the spotters had time to relay more precise coordinates back to the gunnery crew, more Na'vi would die.

He took a deep breath, and then pulled the pin on both grenades. He took two steps closer, and hurled them, before dashing off parallel to the place he had thrown them. There was a shout, and a thunderous concussion. He turned, and let off a full magazine of ammunition into the place where he thought they were. Once more he stopped, crouched, and waited. The sound of moaning reached his ears, and he dashed forward, all caution forgotten. The sniper was lying on the ground, his left side oozing a steady stream of blood from a hundred tiny shrapnel holes. His legs were missing below the knee.

With cold purpose, Ray reloaded and finished him with a single shot to the temple. Then, something solid collided with his head. He stumbled forwards, dropping his rifle and reaching up his hands to cover his head reflexively. He dropped to the ground and rolled over, just in time to hear something heavy make a whooshing nosie as it passed through the space where his head had been just a moment before.

The other commando bore down on him, a ruined gun clutched barrel-first in his armored fist, as though it were a club. He too was bleeding from the legs, but the wounds were not as severe. The man stared at him through his shattered visor, and Ray saw a look of pure, unadulterated fury there. Only one of them would leave alive.

The twisted butt of the gun came down again, and this time Ray had nothing to block it with save his arms. His right wrist shattered as the makeshift weapon made contact with it and he cried out in pain. With his other hand he reached out and tried to wrench it towards him, but the commando simply followed his momentum and depressed the length of it across his throat, choking him. Ray grasped desperatly for a knife with his good hand, but his belt was empty. He remembered, through a haze of agony, giving it to Pamtseo. Her face drifted before his for a moment, and he knew he could not give up.

For the first time though, it tempted him. The black ate at the edges of his vision, and suddenly he felt more tired than he had ever been in his life. The pressure from the rifle at his neck seemed to grow less important, and he realized how comfortable the place where he law was.

Then, his fingers closed around an edge that pricked him sharply. He palmed the object, and recognized it as a shard of wood, dislodged by one of the grenade explosions. In the back of his mind, he knew he was looking at his last and best opportunity to live. He hacked, and spit as hard as he could into the other man's eye. He bellowed in rage, but his grip wavered for an instant as he flinched backwards.

With his left hand, Ray took a hold of the piece of wood and drove it deep into the mans neck. It took a long, noisy while for the soldier to die. When the last resistance had faded from his fingers, Eli had the strength to heft the corpse off of him, but no more.

The artillery had ceased, and the bird song had resumed. Peace seemed to reign once more, and it was here that Ray finally succumbed. His dreams were fitful and when he woke, it was in a cold sweat. He shivered, and a wave of pain moved through him, making his teeth clench. There was a noise all about him, of unearthly moans. He opened one bleary eye and cast it around. He was lying on a small, flat hammock strung between two trees. On either side he could see wounded Na'vi in similar positions. He called out to Pamtseo, but she was not there, and no one came to his aid. He allowed sleep to take him once more.

His dreams were feverish and fitful. In his mind's eye he saw Jake's force take the hill again and again, each time being cut down and yet somehow rising to be cut down again. He saw Pamtseo among them and cried out, but he was ethereal and slow, without the strength even to avert his gaze as the slaughter replayed itself over and over. Eventually the streaks of blood, the stench of smoke, and the cries of pain blending into one long nightmarish tapestry. Amidst the chaos, something warm brushed against his hand. He began to float away from the scene of carnage, and turned upwards to face the brilliant star-fields above.

With a start, his eyes jerked open. The wide arc of a constellation he could not name stretched out before him. The clouds had gone, save for one lone wisp, moving swiftly across the night sky. He looked over, and a rush of sweet relief poured over him. Pamtseo'ite was sleeping gently next to him, her chin tucked down, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. She was sitting on a stool, leaned up against a small sapling. For the first time in a week, Ray found himself smiling. They had walked through death and fire, but as long as he had her, he could continue.

He was no longer lying in the hammock, but resting upon the grassy bottom of a dry streambed. It was not uncomfortable, but it wasn't very warm. He sat up and felt a spike of pain reach from his wrist all the way down to his elbow. His arm was slung across his chest with several pieces of homespun silk. He reached out with his left and stroked Pamtseo's ankle. Her nose wrinkled, and she shivered awake. Ray tried to get up on his good arm but she pushed him back down and lay down next to them. For a long time, neither of them said anything, content to hold each other close. He had never really realized just how soft her skin was until it had been taken from him.

When the sun began to rise, Ray stirred, and Pamtseo helped him up.

"Where are we?"

"My village. I carried you away from the wounded camp. I almost didn't find you in the dark. I thought for sure you were..."

She shuddered, and Ray caressed her cheek.

"I would never leave you."

* * *

Jake walked down the path alone, the wind at his back. It was an unseasonably cold breeze, even for the monsoon season, and the sky was growing darker by the hour as an enormous front of stormcloud bore down on them. Occasionally there was a flash, and a distant rumble.

There was not a soul outside, not even a child. The spinning wheels turned creakily in the wind, as though old, gossiping women still worked them. He had looked all over for Ray, and was about to give him up for dead, when someone mentioned they'd seen Pamtseo helping to carry him away from the triage camp. Now he was standing in front of her home. The fabric that hung across the entrance-way rustled back and forth slightly, revealing bits of the empty, unlit room beyond. Jake was about to leave when he heard noises from above him. He walked up the curving steps and into the upper floor. Here, windows had been carved out of the wood, along with an entrance-way large enough for a Na'vi to fit through. The upper room was a little more furnished. A lamp burned on the small table near the bed, the flame guttering in the draft that was coming through the unsealed doors. There were a few books and clothes scattered on the floor, and he spotted Pamtseo sleeping unclothed on heap of blankets that had been thrown together to form a sort of bed. There was an empty impression next to her, as though someone had been lying there.

He walked out onto the balcony and found Ray, cigarette clenched firmly in his mouth. Two hide satchels sat at his feet, both half filled. Jake took a seat. Ray didn't look up for a long time.

"What can I do for you?"

"I can't just drop in and chat for a while?" Jake said, half-jokingly

"I know you've got better things to do than prattle with me. If you've taken the time to track me down, I'm sure it's of the utmost importance." Ray replied, his tone suggesting that he thought otherwise.

"True, I suppose."

There was a long silence, and then Jake decided to just cut to the chase.

"Did you ever meet Falenrach?"

Ray shook his head.

"I thought not. There wasn't time to introduce you, but I think you would have gotten along well."

"Would have?"

"He's dead. Died leading the charge up that hill. He reminded me a lot of you. No nonsense, just what it took to win and nothing less."

Ray didn't say anything, so Jake continued.

"Williams is between a rock and a hard place. He can't afford to lose any more men and still keep the base operational. Once we take care of him, we can dismantle Hell's Gate."

"You really think that will stop them?"

"Probably not, but we have to try, don't we?"

"I don't fancy your luck against the automated defense systems. Out in the forest? That's one thing. Hell's Gate is a whole other ball game."

"That's why we need every ounce of experience we have. That's why I'm giving command of Falenreach's formation to you."

"No."

Jake shook his head. It wasn't the answer he had expected.

"N- what? You won't even consider it?"

"Nope."

"But... why? We need you! This planet needs you!"

"What this planet needs an orbital defense battery and a twenty four hour crew to man it. Short of that, there is nothing in this universe or the next that will keep the RDA out."

"So you're just giving up then? Packing up and running away?"

"If you want to look at like that, sure."

Frustration exploded across the inside of Jake's head. The ikran ride here had been cold, wet, bumpy, and apparently in vain.

"It wasn't a question, Fletcher!"

Even Jake couldn't track Ray's movement. One second he was sitting on the chair, seemingly deciding which item to put in the bag, the next he had one hand clamped upon Jake's shoulder and something cold and hard pressed against his throat. They both stood like this for a few moments, frozen, and then Ray took a step back. Silence reigned for a long while, until Ray broke it.

"You know what I feel right now, Sully?"

Jake shook his head.

"I feel like... like an apple core. I'm all ate up, Jake, there's nothing left but memories and might-have-beens. War's ate us up, and hollowed us out. You and me both. If we stay here, we'll have to fight, we'll have to live in fear. I won't do that to Pamtseo, you understand? I won't watch her become me. For the first time in my life, I've found something that's unconditionally wonderful, and that is her. I won't give her up for anything, not even the noblest fight in the world. I'm done. Done with war. Done with soldiering. Done."

"You said it yourself earlier. They'll never stop until they have everything. You have a duty."

"That's a dillema for you to solve. I've paid my dues and my duties, plus a little extra. Now I just want to go somewhere where I don't have to kill another sentient creature ever again."

They both paused, looking out at the thick rainclouds as they gathered and shifted ceaselessly.

"Where?"

Ray put the cigarette out on the underside of the table and then brushed the ashes from the edge of the balcony with his foot.

"Pamtseo has some relatives on the coast. After that, who knows."

There was another long silence. Jake could hear stirring from inside.

"I think you'll find a way."

"What?" Jake said, looking up.

"The RDA. Something will come to you. You did it once without my help, you can do it again."

Jake smiled. "Yes, as I recall, you were trying to do the exact opposite at the time."

The fabric pushed itself aside and the last rays of fleeting sunlight fell upon Pamtseo. She was still not wearing any clothes, as was fairly common for Na'vi in their own homes. Although he was accustomed to this, Jake still felt a tinge of embarrassment that he couldn't help but admire her. She was a good bit shorter than Neytiri, but there was a strange fire in her eyes that he had not noticed a month ago.

"Well..." Jake said, trying to marshal his thoughts. "... stay in touch. It's easy to just dissapear out there."

Ray gave a wry smile and glanced at Pamtseo, who was going through her pack.

"That's exactly what I intend to do."

Jake couldn't remember what else he said after that. It wasn't important. None of the pleasantries of life seemed important now, only the here and now, the feelings coming to him through his eyes and ears and skin. As he exited Pamtseo's abode and moved off again down the street, he reflected on his life before Pandora. It seemed unreal to him now, like a dream that was slowly slipping away. He imagined Ray must have felt the same way, and suddenly his answer didn't seem surprising at all. Fleetingly, Jake wished he and Neytiri could run away as well, but he dismissed it. He would continue, because otherwise all was lost.

A whirlwind of leaves danced along the ancient stones under his feet, making a scraping noise. High above, the clouds continued to roll in.


End file.
